


Dopamine, Norepinephrine and Phenylethylamine

by curlypeakism, Miso



Series: The One Where Ray and Egon Are In Love [1]
Category: Ghostbusters (Movies 1984-1989), Ghostbusters - All Media Types
Genre: (its not critical to the story but we feel its important 2 tag), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Friends to Lovers, Gen, M/M, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Sexual Content, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-21
Updated: 2018-08-21
Packaged: 2019-06-13 19:27:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 22,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15371667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/curlypeakism/pseuds/curlypeakism, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miso/pseuds/Miso
Summary: so we made our own computer out of macaroni piecesand it did our thinking while we lived our lives.it counted up our feelingsand divided them up evenand we called our calculation perfect love.a stantzler reimagining of the first ghostbusters movie! consider this to be a prologue to 'wtewye (and a demon king needs to be reborn)'.





	1. chapter one

**Author's Note:**

> hi! hello! we're back!
> 
> so i started this fic alone, but then let it sit in my gdrive for several months before i realized i was kind of stuck. so i hit up my trusty writing partner miso, and we've slowly written this entire fic over the course of a few months. i'll try 2 post chapters every 5-ish days or so, unless there's any feedback that wants them sooner or later and to allow me some time to go back and do some light proofreading!
> 
> sorry if this chapter feels kinda choppy, i skipped a lot of the initial filler action. plus this fic will probably feel a little shorter and different from our previous one, as it deviates much further from its source film + has an entirely different focus.

**Chapter One**

 

There were many things that made Ray feel even younger than he already was. Running across Columbia’s campus, with camera ‘round his neck and seemingly every paper in the world was one of the many.

 

“Sorry! Scuse me! Major parapsychological development in progress!” He dodged coeds and flew up the front steps of Weaver Hall. Today was the biggest moment of his life - his academic life, of course. All those crummy private facilities, all the failed glitter bombs and particle fields, for a real moment of paranormal contact! And he wasn’t all old and sad and washed up like those other guys - hell, thirty one was like being twelve in the science world!

 

“Bullshit!” Stantz dodged a quite pissed student leaving their lab - probably something to do with Peter’s electric shock experiments.  He pushed open the door of the basement lab, disturbing his partner chatting up the other research volunteer

 

“This is it!”

 

Peter jumped along with his coed. “Jesus H…” He mumbled.

 

“This is definitely it! Did those UV lenses come in for the video camera? And that blank tape? I need it. The one you erased yesterday.” Ray went on, rifling noisily through the shelves. Peter sighed, giving Jennifer a resigned glance.

 

“If you’d excuse me…” He gave his usual slick smile, then in a fluid movement, gave Ray a healthy strike on the back of the head. “I’m in the _middle_ of something, Ray!”

 

“Put a sock on the door next time like college.” Ray responded, mood unfettered by Venkman’s antics.

 

“Listen, I just need more time with the subject. Hour, hour and a half?”

 

“Peter, at 1:40 PM at the main branch of the New York Public Library on Fifth Avenue, ten people witnessed a free floating, full torso, vaporous apparition. It blew books off shelves from twenty feet away and scared the socks off some poor librarian!”

 

“Wow! I’m very excited, very pleased, now you get right down there and tell me all about it.”

 

“Oh no, you don’t.”

 

“Get _right_ back and tell me…”

 

“Spengler’s been down there taking PKE valances! Right off the scale - buried the needle! We’re close on this one!” Stantz continued.

 

“I can feel it….” Peter sighed.

 

* * *

 

 

Egon Spengler was surprisingly free of inhibitions, but solely in matters concerning academia. And Raymond Stantz’s requests of him.

 

He’d crushed most of his six foot (and two inch) frame underneath a table with a stethoscope, for further investigation of the occurrence they’d both been alerted to here. The very clear excitement it’d caused Ray gave him something of a resolve to not pursue a less trying method of measurement.

 

And there was something. A knocking? “Eeeeeeee…..”

A frown creased Egon’s features deeply. Apparitions rarely had voices, or even made noises that human ears could comprehend.

 

“Eeeeegonnnnnn….”

 

How did it know who he-?

 

**_THUNK!_ **

 

He jumped from under the table in surprise, only to be met with the smirking face of his colleague. “Oh, you’re here.” Egon said.

 

“Yeah, what’ve you got that’s more important than my studies?”

 

“This is big, Peter, very big.” He got to his feet, removing the stethoscope arms from his ears. “There’s definitely something here.”

 

“This reminds me of that time you tried to drill a hole through your head.”

 

“It would’ve worked if you hadn’t stopped me.”

Just then, a rather nervous, short man walked up to them. “I’m Roger Delacourte. You must be the men from the university.”

 

“Yes.” Venkman put on his semi-professional guise. “I’m Doctor Venkman, Doctor Stantz, Egon.”

 

Ray gave him a bit of a sideways glance and a nudge in the ribs as Delacourte turned away and led them into the library’s guts, practically begging them for discretion.

 

They went down into the stacks, and almost immediately encountered something strange. “Symmetrical book stacking! Just like the Philadelphia mass turbulence of 1947.” Ray noted.

 

Egon nodded in agreement, getting a bit of a grin out of Ray. Peter was still bored. “Yes, no human could stack books like that.”

 

“Listen! You smell something?”

 

The trio continued in even deeper, with an increasingly more strange set of arrangements and occurrences, until around the corner of a shelf, Egon mumbled -

 

“It’s here.”

 

Something jumped in all their throats, especially Ray’s. He tried to prove he wasn’t the baby in most situations involving Egon and Peter, and he was trying his best in this one too. “W-we’ve got to make contact! One of us should try to speak to it.” The words bubbled out before he could even try to reason with himself, full of fear and excitement.

 

“Great idea.” Egon’s lack of any sort of emotional intonation wasn’t anything Ray worried about. His friend was notorious for his monotone, droning voice; there were a number of stories about Dr. Spengler putting his entire lecture hall to sleep within 10 minutes. A pause, before Egon and Ray both turned to look at Peter.

 

“... No.” Peter sighed heavily. “No, guys, you’re-”

 

“Venkman, one of us needs to try.”

 

Peter stared blankly at his co-professors, then made a noise of resignation before stepping out from behind the bookcase. The entity was a legless, floating apparition of a woman’s torso, tall and lanky and dressed in quite old-fashioned clothing. “Hey,” Peter said as casually as he could. “I’m Peter. What’s your name?” The ghost said and did nothing. “Where are you from? Originally, that is,” he continued. This time, the apparition turned and shushed him. A bit of indignance welled in his chest- he just got _shushed_ by a god-damned _ghost_ \- but instead of showing it, he opted to shrug and go back to Egon and Ray, still peeking out from behind the bookcase. “Any other great ideas?”

 

Ray glanced briefly at Egon, who only shrugged a tad without offering any suggestion further. Right. Better go with his _own_ instincts.

 

“Well…I’ve got a plan!” He said, firm and confident. “I know exactly what to do. Stay close and do exactly as I say.”

 

Egon and Peter took a step closer to Ray and the three men slowly emerged from behind their hiding place. The latter took a deep breath and lowered his stance a bit, creeping up on the apparition. “One...two...three... GET HER!”

 

The same instant the three of them lunged at the ghost, the entity suddenly transformed into a horrific, bubblegum pink wraith. “ **_GRAAAAAAAAAH!”_ **

 

They stopped cold for a brief second before breaking into horrified screams and tripping over themselves and their equipment trying to get away. In a flurry of cameras and tape, they went hurrying past the anxious library administrator who’d greeted them.

 

“Did you find out what it was-?” He began.

 

“We’ll get back to you!” Peter barked as they burst out the front doors and down the steps. They didn’t really stop running until they reached a park near campus.

 

“That was a great idea you had,” Peter began, smirking at Ray almost smugly. “‘Get her.’ Real smart. It was scientific.”

 

“I’m sorry, Venkman, I just… I just got excited,” Ray began sheepishly, inspecting his camera. “But can you believe it?! Actual evidence!”

 

“Ray, you know as well as I do no one’s gonna take pictures of a stack of books seriously. Unless we can catch and hold the damn thing, they’re still gonna think we’re hacks.”

 

As if out of nowhere, Egon sidled up between the other two and began, “You’re not talking complete nonsense, Peter. If my calculations are correct it’s entirely possible that we could invent a method of capturing and containing a ghost indefinitely.” Egon held up the calculator-like gizmo in his hand. Peter wasn’t sure what all the numbers on the screen meant, but he figured it had something to do with brainy stuff that had always been more Egon’s forte than his.

 

Ray, on the other hand, lit up like a little kid on Christmas. “Really, now? This is incredible!” He and Egon took off, leaving Peter with his mouth open to begin asking a question. “If this actually works, we could really bust some heads!” Ray chirped as Peter caught up to them. A beat passed, before Ray added, “Ahhh, in a… spiritual sense, of course.”

 

“Spengs,” Peter began, clapping a hand onto Egon’s shoulder and halting his forward movement. “You serious about this whole catching-a-ghost thing?”

 

Egon cocked an eyebrow, adjusted his glasses, and tucked his little thingamajig (he had a lot of little electrical doodads that Peter didn’t really understand) into his coat pocket. “I’m _always_ serious,” Egon intoned.

 

A pause. “... Egon, I’m gonna take back some of the things I’ve said about you,” Peter said, pulling a chocolate bar from his own pocket. Egon’s gaze locked on it, and he sheepishly reached for it. Peter teasingly held it out of his reach for a moment, before handing his friend the candy. “You’ve earned it.”

 

Ray smiled at the exchange. He definitely liked when Peter was nice to Egon - and when people in general were nice to Egon. Not a lot of people could understand him one hundred percent of the time, but they could at least be kind to him.

 

He thought it a little unusual the number of janitors and men with heavy boxes they saw as they walked up the stairs to their building and got closer to the lab. But nothing could be wrong on a day like today, right? Oh, but there could be.

 

They were greeted by the sight of a tight-faced, stern-looking Dean Yeager standing in the doorway of their lab, keenly observing the removal of the vast majority of their equipment and furnishings inside. They hadn’t requested a room change. The three men looked at each other with varying displays of worry on their faces, then Peter approached Yeager.

 

“I trust you’re surprising us and moving us to better quarters on campus?” Yeager shook his head and the beginnings of a nasty sneer came onto his face.

 

“No, exactly the opposite. You’re being moved _off_ campus. The board of regents has decided to terminate your grant, effective _immediately,_ and you are to vacate these premises and return your materials now.”

 

“I demand an explanation.” Peter pressed further. Off to his side, Ray frowned, especially as a passing mover gestured for him to give up the camera around his neck. It was _bullshit._ No other way really to say it.

 

“An explanation? The university will no longer use funding on activities of your group’s nature.”

 

“But the kids love us.” Did they?

 

“Dr. Venkman, we believe the purpose of science to further mankind. You, however, seem to regard it as some kind of dodge or hustle. Your theories are the worst kind of popular tripe, your methods are sloppy, and your conclusions are highly questionable. You, Dr. Venkman, are a _poor scientist._ ”

 

Well geez. Peter could be a little sloppy sometimes, but was that necessary?

 

* * *

 

 

It was later that afternoon before Ray let himself break. Pacing back and forth on the steps of a hall he didn’t recognize or care about, Ray mumbled to himself. “We’re doomed. Forget MIT or Stanford now. We’re never gonna be taken seriously again.”

 

“Will you come off it, man?” Peter asked from his perch on a railing, reclining almost casually. “You know, Einstein did most of his best work when he was a patent clerk.”

 

“You know how much a patent clerk earns?!” Ray snapped. Peter responded with a mildly bewildered expression and a shrug.

 

“Well, no,” he admitted, taking a drink from the bottle of liquor beside him. “But Ray, let me tell you something,” he continued, hopping down from the railing, bottle in hand, and wrapping an arm around Ray’s shoulders. “You can call it luck, or fate, or karma… but I believe we’re destined for greater things than this. I _believe_ we were supposed to get tossed outta this dump.” He gestured broadly to the campus before them.

 

For a minute, Ray thought about how ridiculous it was to refer to an Ivy League university in the heart of Manhattan as a dump, but he decided to see where Peter was going with this. “Okay. Why?”

 

“To go into business for _ourselves_.” Peter smiled and offered Ray the bottle. Ray looked at it a second, then shrugged, took it, and swigged the booze.

 

“Alright, but this whole ghost trap thing Spengler and I have planned is gonna take a load of capital. Where are we supposed to get the money now?”

 

“I don’t know.” The smile didn’t fade from Peter’s face as he took the liquor back and drank again. “I don’t know!”


	2. chapter two

**Chapter Two**

  


“You’re never gonna regret this, Ray,” Peter began as the trio left the bank. Ray stared almost forlornly at the mortgage papers in his hands, chewing on his bottom lip momentarily.

 

“Y’know, my parents left me that house. I was _born_ there.”

 

“Eh, you’ll be fine, everyone has three mortgages these days.” Peter shrugged and whacked Ray between the shoulder blades, grinning.

 

“You didn’t even try to bargain with the guy, though. 19% interest?!”

 

As was his routine, Egon slid between the two and showed Ray the calculator in his hand. “Ray, just for your information, the interest rate for the first five years alone comes to 95,000 dollars.”

 

Ray deflated a bit and sighed quietly in defeat. Peter scowled momentarily before turning to his friends, moving sideways down the street.

 

“You two gotta relax. We’re on the verge of a scientific breakthrough, boys. This is indispensable defense science right here; paranormal investigation and elimination.” A pause as he grinned and rubbed his hands together almost maniacally. “The franchise rights alone will make us rich beyond our wildest dreams.”

 

“You’d better hope you’re right.” Ray responded, a little bit less glum.

  


Egon looked around the building they were inside of with clear derision. He kept an informal emotional quota in his day to day life, and it definitely needed to be used on this old firehouse Ray had found somehow.

 

“It’s a fixer-upper for sure. A little pricey for such a... _unique_ opportunity, don’t you think?” He heard Peter say to the real estate agent. “What do you think, Egon?”

 

“This building should be condemned. There’s serious metal fatigue in all the load-bearing members, the wiring is substandard, it’s completely inadequate for our power needs, and the neighborhood is like a demilitarized zone.” Egon said tersely, punctuating his statement with a snide sniff.

 

“Hey!”

 

The three of them looked up hearing Ray shout from above. The younger man was standing at the opening of the fire pole from the second floor. “Does this pole still work?”

 

“Raymond-!” Egon started in concern, but before he could finish his misgivings, Ray had taken off and slid down practically right in front of him.

 

“Wow! This place is great, don’t you think!”

 

“Ray, I-”

 

“When can we move in? You’ve gotta try the pole, I’m gonna get my stuff!” Ray went to take off, but part of the way upstairs, he paused. “We should stay here tonight! You know, try it out!”

 

* * *

 

All told, the firehouse wasn’t _as_ bad as it looked. Sure, Egon’s structural concerns were valid, and the place needed a few dozen coats of paint, but once it was fixed up it wasn’t too bad. The sleeping quarters and lounge area on the upper floor were comfortable and spacious enough for Egon and Ray to establish a small lab corner, where they’d spend hours tinkering with their new gadgets in silence. A few arcade cabinets, a table, some chairs, a couch, a TV… it was almost like they were in college again, sharing a slightly-too-small apartment, but none of them could complain about that.

 

The only issue was business. Rather, the lack thereof, really. No calls for two weeks, and their petty cash buildup was dwindling quickly, especially after Ray’s ill-considered purchase of an old ambulance for their vehicle that needed thousands of dollars in work for it to be drivable for more than a couple of miles, much less throughout the city.

 

“What’re we doing tonight?” Ray asked one dull evening, relaxed on the couch and counting the various dots on the ceiling that had yet to be fixed. “Any calls?”

 

“Nah.” Peter glanced out the window. “Actually, I have a date tonight.”

 

“What?”

 

“I know, I know, it’s last minute, and my absence will tear this team apart,” Peter began, “But I think you two can handle yourselves for one night without me, right? I mean, you’re big boys.”

 

Ray stared at Peter for a moment. “... Who’s the lucky lady?” he asked, praying his friend didn’t notice the blush rising on his cheeks at the thought of being alone with Egon in their new… living conditions, really, he supposed.

 

“It’s a blind date. Mutual friend set us up.” Peter smiled a little and shrugged his jacket on before heading for the fire pole. “You two behave yourselves, alright? No funny business. I expect this building to still be standing when I get home. No wild parties-”

 

“Venkman!”

 

“I’m just kidding, lambchop. See ya.” With that, Peter slid down the pole and out of sight, and Ray felt a sense of unease come over him.

 

Egon wandered into the room from the bathroom, where he’d been trying to scrub himself clean of the exploded remains of his latest attempt at a sort of ‘ghost radar.’ Ray tried not to let his gaze linger too long, but… well, how could he not stare at an attractive, damp-skinned intellectual in naught but a towel around his waist?

 

“Where’d Venkman go?” Egon asked, drying his hair a bit before letting the towel he’d been using on it drape around his neck. “I heard you talking to him.”

 

“He has a date tonight, so, um… I guess we have the place to ourselves.”

 

“Oh.” A beat passed before Egon cleared his throat. “Right, right. Let me get dressed.”

 

“Well, I… I thought you didn’t like getting dressed when your hair was wet. Got your clothes wet.”

 

“I don’t, but I’m not trying to make you uncomfortable, either.”

 

“Oh...well uh…” Ray took a moment to try to collect himself, hoping and praying that he wasn’t too red. “...I-it’s fine. We’re just two guys hanging out right?” He let an awkward little laugh bubble out of him into the silence.

 

Egon raised an eyebrow slightly at the sudden degradation in his friend’s composure. “Right. I’ll just go and get dressed in a moment. Was there anything in particular that you’d like to do? I know that you thought we were making decent progress on those scanner prototypes yesterday evening-?”

 

“Let’s take a break from science! Are you hungry? I’m hungry! Let’s….eat food or something!” Ray blurted. It’s not like it’d be a...date or anything like that. It’s just two friends being pals, right? He tried to ignore how fast his heart was beating at that _first_ scenario.

 

Egon took a moment, then mumbled. “S-sure.”

 

* * *

 

 

Ray wasn’t quite sure how it happened, but they ended up at the corner booth of a diner around the corner he remembered barely from their college days. Somehow it was still around, but they were the only inhabitants besides a man quietly nursing his coffee and the staff milling around aimlessly.

 

He looked up from the remnants of the fries he was pushing around on his plate at Egon across from him, and was rather stunned to find that he was lost for words. He’d known him for over a decade and suddenly, he had nothing to say?

 

“Well...erm...how do you feel about....everything?” Very specific, Raymond. “You know….not being at the university anymore and on our own?”

 

Egon finished the sip of tea he was taking and set the mug down gently on a napkin. “Well, obviously, the convenience of university funding is very much so missed, as well as easy access to lab equipment.” He said, picking up the abandoned cherry from the ice cream dish in front of him before responding. “But, I still have classes I can teach. And the freedom to research and experiment as I wish on my own time is beyond liberating.”

 

Ray briefly cursed the fact that Egon was always so composed. Nothing got under his skin, ruffled his feathers, bothered him in the slightest. He was always stoic, distant Egon, calculating and rational. Meanwhile, Ray himself was sweating, his heart was pounding, and he could only pray Egon hadn’t picked up on it. “Mm. Yeah, I miss the funding, too, but… it’s kind of nice to be living together again.” A pause. “Y’know. The three of us. Like in college.”

 

“I admit there’s a certain nostalgia.” Egon twirled the cherry by its stem before popping it in his mouth. “But at the same time, it’s very close quarters, and I don’t remember Peter being quite as heavy of a snorer.” A smirk as he examined the stem for a bit. “I can tie this in a knot with my tongue.”

 

Ray almost choked on his drink when Egon blurted out that little tidbit of information. “What?”

 

“Unexpected, I know, but I’ve been… ah, _informed_ that I have a certain amount of dexterity most people don’t possess.” Egon’s smirk grew to a more genuine smile. “Hang on.” The stem disappeared into his mouth, he was quiet for a moment, focusing, before- by God, he was serious- he removed the cherry stem, tightly bound into a knot. “It’s not an impressive talent, really, but it amuses people.”

 

 _Amuses and makes their frustration about your stupid hot ass 20 times worse,_ Ray thought, hoping his smile wasn’t too obviously nervous. “That’s… actually, I think it’s really cool. I’ve tried to learn how to do that for years.” He nudged his fries around again, feeling his face grow hot. “I bet the girls like it.”

 

Egon snickered a little. “Well, some of them do. The very few I’ve had any sort of interest in.” He shrugged and set the still-knotted stem down into his dish. “Most people think of it as more of a party trick than anything.”

 

“Oh, well...it must start conversations.” Ray said, smirking a little bit. Unexpectedly, Egon _laughed_ a bit in response. He’d heard Egon really laugh... _three_ times in the time he’d known him. What the hell world was in he in? He briefly considered the possibility of this diner representing a gateway to an alternate dimension as he laughed with his friend. A friend.

 

“It’s a shame we really don’t do non-science things like this more often, Spengs.”

 

Egon shrugged, with a small smile still lingering on his face. “Most think that I’m an emotionless cyborg only capable of performing research and lecturing. And approximately ninety percent of the time, they’d be correct. But sometimes, things make me feel a little bit more human than usual.”

 

“Like _me_ ?” Ray burst out without thinking, and almost immediately wished he could take back seeing the surprise on Egon’s face. Oh _God,_ he thought.

 

“....That could be said. You’re definitely my most trusted partner. You’ve assisted and accompanied me on many significant discoveries and projects. You have a knack for discovery and are very tolerable to be around.” Egon said.

 

“...Ah. I’m glad.” Ray managed to get out. His heart felt like a jackhammer in his chest. Tolerable in Egon’s language was practically an admission to unconditional love. He took a glance at the clock above the door across the way. “Well...we should probably be getting back to the firehouse, it’s getting late.”

 

Egon glanced up at the clock as well. “So it is. I’m glad we could take this break from scientific endeavors, though,” he said with a still-genuine little smile. “Don’t worry about the bill. I’ll take care of it.”

 

“Egon, that’s-”

 

“Simply a friendly thing to do.” Egon stood, removing his wallet from his pocket. “Honestly, Ray, it’s fine. It isn’t like you’re an expensive date.”

 

 _Date?!_ Ray swore he could feel his heart stop and his breath catch in his throat. Was this a date? He thought it was just dinner! Dinner with an old friend! Egon called it a date, what the hell did that mean?!

  


“Are you okay?” Egon asked, his eyebrows furrowed together in confusion. “You look, ah… pale.”

 

“M’fine,” Ray managed to squeak, forcing a smile that he hoped didn’t betray the combination of utter terror and overwhelming love he was feeling. Honestly, he kind of hoped it just looked like he was nauseous. That would be a lot easier to explain. Sure, Egon had probably meant that as a joke- an Egon Joke, infamously unsubtle and not that funny and hard to distinguish from a serious statement- but to Ray, it meant the world.

 

Their walk back to the firehouse was slow and somewhere between awkward and comfortable. They had a few moments of cheerful conversation, like nothing had happened and they were just old buddies bantering like always, but the silence that fell between those little moments of chatter was heavy. Ray was still thinking about the implications of ‘date’. Egon wasn’t good at sarcasm or subtlety, either one, and part of him had to wonder if it wasn’t some kind of Freudian slip. Was Egon just trying to be funny in his usual Egonish way or was he _serious_ and actually thinking of this as a for-real date?

 

Like hell Ray would actually ask aloud- fuck no, he wouldn’t risk their friendship over something awkward that was probably just supposed to be a joke that fell on its face- but it chewed on him as they stepped into the firehouse and climbed the stairs. “So, um… I dunno when Venkman’s supposed to be back,” Ray said, settling onto the couch. “I know it’s kinda late, but if you’re not tired we could see if anything’s on the tube. There’s probably a cheesy horror movie on somewhere this time of night.”

  
Egon stood for a moment, then shrugged and settled onto the couch. “I don’t mind at all. Not as if there’s anything else to be done tonight.” He said, drifting off into his own little world for a moment as Ray clicked through the channels.

 

Romance and such had never really found its way into that little world. Not that Egon found it especially abhorrent or unwanted, it just…. _wasn’t._ As seen through her weekly phone calls, his mother and several others had been waiting for him to slow down and experience something human after a breakneck run through academia. Entering the Ivy League at 17, then graduate school, then a doctorate, and now a standing professor. Surely, all the pieces were in place for someone to fulfill him where books couldn’t?

 

He wasn’t sure. There hadn’t really been anyone who’d lit his fire the way a new discovery or a well-received thesis did. One boring girl he’d dated for a year during grad school that Peter infamously referred to as ‘The Gargoyle’. Coeds in his classes now who tried to cozy up to him in the hopes of a better grade. But nobody really made him _feel._ Well, except…

 

A weight settled onto his shoulder. He glanced down. He didn’t think he’d been staring at nothing and thinking _that_ long, but it was apparently long enough for Ray for find a rerun of _The Blob,_ watch a portion of it, then fall asleep. Egon felt his face get hot, out of embarrassment that’d he bored and/or ignored someone to the point of putting them to sleep or of something…he couldn’t quite place. In his chest. Indigestion?

 

Ginger in his next motions, he stood up, making sure to guide Ray’s head off his shoulder gently and onto the couch cushions. He looked down at him. He was strong enough to put him in bed, but…

  


For just a moment, a surge of affection ran through Egon. Ray was so… _peaceful_ when he was asleep, his face soft and angelic, almost cherubic. In fact, Egon could have almost described the sight as… _cute._ He physically shook his head to clear his mind, sighing and treading as gently as he could to the team sleeping quarters. Ray’s bed stuck out like a sore thumb; propped against his pillow was his ratty but much loved stuffed dog, the one Egon knew Ray would pitch a fit if he didn’t have. He gently peeled the blanket off of the bed, then took the pillow and (begrudgingly, wincing a little as he did so) plush dog with him into the living room again. Ray was still asleep, curled up on the couch, dozing soundly.

 

Egon felt himself smile without thinking. “Cute” was the perfect word. Definitely. He gently, so-incredibly-gently lifted Ray’s head just enough to slide his pillow beneath it, then equally gingerly covered him with the blanket and (again, very hesitantly) picked up Ray’s smelly old stuffed toy and gently placed it beside him. Ray subconsciously stirred a little, pawing around a little until his hand came in contact with the old toy. He seemed to relax then, tucking the stuffed animal under his chin and apparently re-entering his deep slumber.

 

Egon’s smile grew a bit. “Goodnight, Raymond,” he whispered, running a hand affectionately through Ray’s hair, before turning the TV off and retiring to his own bed, still feeling that interesting and entirely foreign fluttering feeling in his gut. Definitely unusual. Before he fell asleep, he mused that he would have to avoid eating ice cream at that diner again. There was no way it was anything but indigestion. Right?


	3. chapter three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> it's the sedgewick bust!! literally just that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we are really ass at action scenes but we tried.

**Chapter Three**

 

A few nights and one report of a haunted fridge later, Egon, Peter, and Ray were gathered around the card table that was serving as a dining surface in the meantime. The dwindling remnants of a large spread of Chinese food sat before them.

 

“You know,” Peter said, stirring through a box of fried rice with his chopsticks. “I gotta borrow some petty cash. I feel like it’s very important that I take our very first customer out for dinner - we don’t want to lose her.”

 

Ray raised his eyebrows and paused briefly before taking the next bite of the noodles in the container in front of him. Besides the fact that he thought that the kind woman they’d been in contact with over the interdimensional portal in her icebox - Dana -  probably didn’t care for Peter much, there wasn’t such cash to speak of. “Uh, this magnificent feast represents the  _ last  _ of our petty cash.” He said, carefully leaving out that some of it had gone to he and Egon’s not-date.

 

Peter seemed to visibly deflate a bit, then gestured at Ray with his chopsticks. “Slow down. Chew your food. Make it last.”

  
  


Egon, sitting across from Ray, said nothing. Things were a bit… awkward, after their definitely-not-a-date the other night. When Ms. Barrett arrived to speak to them, Ray had settled onto the couch upstairs just a little too close to him for comfort, like absolutely no one would raise an eyebrow at it. He couldn’t help but wonder if maybe his little ‘date’ joke hadn’t had more truth to it than he realized.

  
  


He was in the middle of a bite of an egg roll when the alarm went off, startling Egon almost into choking. He’d heard Janine, their secretary, yell something from downstairs, but couldn’t quite make it out; if he hadn’t caught on, Ray was quick to blurt out the obvious. “A  _ call! _ ” Ray half-yelled, before leaping out of his chair and darting to the fire pole. “C’mon, c’mon, get moving!”

 

Egon left his half-eaten egg roll on the table and straightened his jacket, opting to let Peter- chopsticks still in his mouth, inexplicably- to head down first. For all the work they’d done on the building, that pole was still pretty goddamn intimidating, and from the way Peter smirked at him and laughed to himself, Egon could tell the terror had been written all over his face.

 

No time for it, though. They had an  _ actual call _ . All three of them had been wondering when- or if- it was going to happen. Peter’s somber comment about making their food last was a grim reminder of reality; that they were on a rapidly-dwindling budget that needed a kickstart and fast.  _ Good timing,  _ Egon thought as he zipped his flight suit and loaded their recently-completed proton packs- not the most inventive name, he knew, but Peter’s suggestion of “zappy backpacks” didn’t quite sound serious enough- into the trunk of their car.  _ I highly doubt even Venkman could talk Ray into a  _ **_fourth_ ** _ mortgage. _

 

Ray took the wheel, as he’d been the first one down, and it was clear through his wild, haphazard driving that he was  _ extremely  _ excited. Sure, he was pretty happy-go-lucky most of the time but when all that enthusiasm climaxed, a few trash cans getting dented be damned, he was gonna get to whatever he wanted to. It barely seemed like a blink of an eye before they were in front of the site of their call - a swanky hotel downtown that they all recognized but had never put a toe inside, the Sedgewick. 

 

They entered, side by side and trying their best to look much more confident than they all felt. Peter threw out a cheeky yell of, “Anybody seen a ghost?”

 

On cue, a very neat but very anxious hotel manager approached them tightly and briskly. “Thank you for coming so quickly! The guests are starting to ask questions and I’m all out of answers.” He said, sighing and straightening his pocket square.

 

“Has this happened before?” Ray asked eagerly.

 

“Well, most of the original staff knows about the twelfth floor - the disturbances, I mean. But it’s been quiet for years! Up until two weeks ago, it was never,  _ ever  _ this bad.”

 

Egon stepped in next. “Did you report it to anybody?” The manager looked deeply offended at that notion.

 

“Absolutely not! Heavens no!”

 

Peter raised his eyebrows. “Oh, no. You kidding?”

 

“The owners don’t even like us to talk about it. I hope we can take care of this. Quietly! Tonight!” He pleaded helplessly.

 

Ray piped up again. “Don’t worry! We handle this sort of thing all the time!” He lied cheerily, adjusting the goggles perched on his head. He then nodded for his partners to follow him to a nearby elevator.

  
  


The baffled looks they were receiving from the patrons of the hotel were one thing, but a very confused old man by the elevator was by far the best. He looked at the trio, did a double take, looked them all up and down, and said, “What are you supposed to be? Some kinda cosmonaut?” to Peter.

 

“Exterminators,” Peter corrected him, “Someone saw a cockroach up on 12.”

 

“... Must be a helluva cockroach.”

 

“Bite your head off, man,” Peter quipped in a perfect deadpan as he stepped into the elevator. Holding back a smile, Ray poked his head back out and held the door open as he faced their baffled new friend.

 

“You going up?” he chirped. The old man’s face contorted into something that resembled either fear, concern, or constipation.

 

“I’ll… take the next one.”

 

The silence in the elevator was momentary, but heavy. Ray broke it when a realization hit him; “Uh, guys? It just occurred to me that we haven’t really had a successful test of this equipment.”

 

“I blame myself,” Egon intoned.

 

“So do I,” Peter added, tapping his foot impatiently as they ascended the building.

 

“Well, no time to test it now,” Ray mumbled. “Switch me on.”

 

As the pack powered up with a loud whirr, Ray swore he saw Egon and Peter push themselves against the far wall.

 

Stepping out of the elevator, Ray tried not to jump when two more loud zapping noises followed by soft whirrs of machinery hit his ears. Apparently, that noise was  _ normal  _ for their proton packs. A little alarming, but… well, hopefully it wouldn’t blow them into New Jersey, right? “Stay close,” Ray whispered, taking the wand out of its holster on the backpack. “It could be anywhere.”

 

They rounded a corner, and Egon evidently spotted movement out of the corner of his eye, because he whipped around and fired his proton gun at something. Panicking, Ray and Peter followed suit, the three of them screaming until they were sure the threat was neutralized.

 

Unfortunately, the threat was just a deeply shaken maid. She peeked out from behind her cart, trembling a little. “What the hell are you doing?!”

 

“Sorry,” the trio mumbled almost in unison, lowering their guns. At least they knew they worked now.

 

“We should split up,” Egon said, pausing to look over his shoulder at the maid currently trying to put out a small fire with a spray bottle.

 

“Great idea,” Peter snarked, already starting in a different direction. “We can do more damage that way.”

 

As their associate disappeared around a corner, Egon and Ray looked at each other for a moment. “Erm...I’ll head down this hallway and you can go the other direction from where Peter went. Unless you’d like me to follow you, since my meter was working a tad better?” The former asked, breaking the silence.

 

“No. I’ll probably be okay. Plus, we got walkies.” Ray responded, waving his radio to emphasize the point. They both nodded a bit and turned in their respective opposite directions, just a bit too eager to leave their awkward situation unaddressed for the moment.

 

As soon as he was out of sight, Ray dug around a moment in his breast pocket before coming up with a cigarette and lighter. He knew he was getting a little old for this sort of thing and his lungs would probably start to fight him about it, but he was terribly nervous for more than one reason tonight.

 

He skulked around for a bit alone, hands clenched tightly around the gun piece of the pack on his back, until very suddenly, he was not alone anymore. As he rounded the corner, he came face to face with a disgusting, slimy-looking blob of a ghost hunched over eating (or attempting to eat) the contents of an abandoned food service cart. In shock, he backed behind a wall and scrambled to grab his radio, so distracted he couldn’t even mourn the cigarette as it dropped from his lip.

 

“Venkman! Venkman!” He hissed urgently, disappointed to receive no response. Peering back around the corner, he took a shaky breath and braced himself. He’d have to hold it alone. He aimed and fired.

 

Unfortunately, the beam of energy missed its target, instead burning the wall next to it and startling the greasy ghost. With a screech of shock, the entity took off, dragging the cart with it into a wall quite messily and explosively.

 

As if on cue, his walkie buzzed and a tinny “Come in, Ray” came through after he’d stood there shocked for a moment. Venkman. Fuckin’ finally. Ray grabbed his walkie talkie and pushed the ‘talk’ button. “Venkman! I saw it, I saw it, I saw it!”

 

“It’s right here, Ray,” Peter continued, voice monotone. “It’s  _ looking at me. _ ”

 

“Ugly little spud, isn’t he?”

 

“I think it can hear you, Ray.” Peter’s voice almost had a tremor to it now.

 

“Don’t move. It shouldn’t attack if you don’t-”

 

Ray was cut off by snarling and Venkman screaming. Startled, he holstered his walkie again and sprinted through the halls, calling for Peter as he did. He eventually came upon him, laid out on the floor and coated in ectoplasmic goo. “Oh man, Venkman, you okay?”

 

“Ugh.” Peter picked his head up and wiped some of the slime off of him. “He slimed me.”

 

“That’s great!” The point soared over Ray’s head and landed somewhere near Chicago. “Actual physical contact! Can you move?” He knelt and began helping Peter to at least sit up when his radio buzzed again.

 

“Ray? Can you hear me?”

 

“Spengler!” Ray had the radio out of its holder and in his hand in record time. “I’m with Venkman!  _ He got slimed! _ ” He sounded like an excited child. Peter, grumbling to himself and trying to clean himself up a little, swore he heard a smile in Egon’s voice when he answered.

 

“That’s great, Ray, save me a sample. You need to get down here. It just went into a ballroom.”

 

The same hotel employee from earlier furrowed his brow with concern at the sight of a particularly-greasy looking Peter walking towards his ballroom, accompanied by Ray, who at this point was almost buzzing with excitement. “Good lord, what happened to you?” he asked, not paying attention to Egon biting his lip to avoid snickering.

 

“Long story,” Peter answered, sliding past him. “My colleagues and I need to get into the ballroom, if you don’t mind.”

 

“Don’t be long, please. We have a very important client who booked a midnight banquet-”

 

“Yeah, yeah, leave it to us, buddy. We’ll have the place cleaned up for you in no time.” With that, Peter opened the door and smiled as confidently as humanly possible as he sauntered in like he owned the place. Ray and Egon stayed back just a moment to reassure their obviously-unsettled client.

 

“You’ll have to excuse our coworker, he can be a little… unprofessional. We’ll handle it as quickly and quietly as possible.” Ray flashed his winning smile as Egon shut the door behind them, leaving the baffled and concerned employee to worry his pocket square and wonder what he’d gotten himself into.

 

As they entered, the two joined Peter underneath a table near the door. “Ray, now would be the  _ perfect  _ time for that wonderful eyewear of yours.” Venkman said, looking around the room in vain. “Our pal’s playing hide and seek.”

 

Ray lowered the goggles onto his face and began scanning the room. No, nope, nothing...until he looked at the ceiling. The blob-like creature was floating in circles around a chandelier. “There he is! Near that fixture thing.” He whisper-yelled, gesturing for his partners to come out from under the table with him. “All right, boys - ready? Throw it!”

 

The three of them fired at once, sending the ghost flying again and the very expensive-looking chandelier crashing onto a table of equally expensive-looking place settings. Ray cringed at the sound of breaking glass and crystal and tried his best to ignore the rattling of the door as he started apologizing. “Sorry! My fault! I did that!”

 

Peter walked up to join him and clapped a hand onto his friend’s shoulder firmly. “That’s alright, Ray, the table broke its fall.” He said, half joking and half trying to keep Ray’s spirits up. 

 

From behind them, something urgent occured to Egon and he joined them, frowning and even more serious looking than usual. “There’s something very important I forgot to tell you.” He said darkly.

 

“And what is that?” Peter asked.

 

“Don’t cross the streams.”

 

“Why?”

 

“It would be bad.”

 

“Egon, I need more explanation on bad.”

 

“Imagine all life as you knowing stopping instantaneously and every molecule in your body exploding at the speed of light.” Egon explained gravely. Ray broke from his mourning of the chandelier and looked at Egon with a deeply earnest expression.

 

“ _ Total  _ protonic reversal.” He said hoarsely.

 

Peter was quiet a moment, then said, “Right. Right,  _ that’s  _ bad. Okay, great, thanks, Egon.” For being informed he could quite literally explode and leave nothing behind mere seconds ago, Peter was really good at acting like he wasn’t shaken.

 

The ghost chose that moment to reappear. Egon spotted him first, calling to his colleagues to “Look out!” before firing at it. He chased it around the room for a solid two minutes, never once taking his finger off the trigger; by the time he had finished chasing the nasty little thing (it darted behind the bar) a massive scorch mark scarred the wall, various plates of food and drinkware were upturned, and the aforementioned bar had a massive hole in it.

 

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Peter said from the other side of the room, where he and Ray had apparently dove to get out of the way of Egon’s attempt to catch the damn thing. “Nice shootin’, Tex.”

 

Egon blinked a couple times and almost smiled a little as the adrenaline rush hit him. “That was… actually fun.”

 

“Fun isn’t a word you use, Spengs.” Peter examined the bar for a second, quirking an eyebrow. “Y’know, I don’t think their insurance guy will believe this.”

 

“That took something out of it, though,” Ray interrupted. “We’re close, I know it. I need room to put the trap down, give me some room!”

 

With that, the trio began chucking tables aside, ignoring the desperate rattling of the door from the outside. Sending the trap into the center of the room, Ray watched as the little potato-shaped being (ex-being?) floated right above it. “Right. Spengler, he’s gonna jump. I need a containment stream. Get him!”

 

The ghost shrieked but didn’t move as Egon fired again, the beam wrapping around the spectre and holding him in place. “Pete, hold him up, he’s gonna move!”

 

The chaos in the room was palpable and almost definitely audible from outside. “I’m opening the trap!” Ray exclaimed. “Don’t look directly into it!”

 

Stomping down on the switch, Ray watched the ghost closely, only half-registering Egon calling “I looked at the trap, Ray!”

 

“Turn your streams off as soon as I close the trap! One… two… three!”

 

A flash of light, loud buzzing and zapping, and… no more ghost. The three of them exchanged a glance, and Egon stepped a little closer to the trap. Kneeling down, he nudged it slightly. It fizzled, but made no other noise. “It’s in there.”

 

“Well.” Ray smiled a little. “I think that went pretty well!”

 

Egon fixed him with a skeptical but affectionate look, before shaking his head and choosing to keep his mouth shut.

 

Even though he was covered in smelly ectoplasm and holding a steaming steel box full of greasy poltergeist, as they walked out of the doors of the hall and into the waiting crowd of agitated hotel staff and waiting banquet guests, Ray could’ve sworn he was on top of the world. All the late nights, all the explosions, all the money, all the humiliation and bullshit - now, it  _ really  _ happened. He - they, all of them - were official paranormal investigators.

 

And it felt really damn good.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> aaa the classic Drunken Confession and Confusion.

**Chapter Four**

 

Seemingly overnight, they went from nobodies booted from their cushy university research positions to the hottest thing in paranormal extermination and investigation since sliced bread. Talk shows and newspapers were clamoring for them, and the calls seemed to never stop. They went from Chinatown to Brooklyn to Queens to upstate all in one day, and barely touched their pillows before the alarms started going all over again.

 

This particular night, however, they had a break - sort of. They’d responded to a call at a nightclub downtown of a few old partiers that’d never made it out causing trouble. Once they’d taken care of it, the owner - and the girls who’d sighted the ghosts - nearly begged them on their knees to stay and dance for a bit. 

 

Peter had said yes without hesitation and disappeared with a knot of beautiful women into the crowd hours ago. Ray was...somewhere. Egon had retreated to a corner near the bar that was somewhat secluded, and was wondering if he’d accepted a few too many free drinks from patrons as he studied the floor that was rapidly turning sideways. He really didn’t drink much ever, and had never gone to this excess before - he didn’t like anything that made him feel less than sharp.

 

“Egon?” The voice was muddled and indistinct behind the loud music and other conversations, but  _ someone  _ said his name. Egon nudged his glasses up the bridge of his nose and tried to focus on the person that had appeared in front of him. “Are you okay?”

 

“Oh. Rrrrray, s’just you. M’fine.” Egon put his head down on the bar in an attempt to stop the room from spinning.

 

“Holy shit, you’re drunk.” Ray sat beside him. “Seriously, are you alright? I mean, I didn’t expect you to dance, but I didn’t expect you to get plastered, either.”

 

“Mebbe m’not fine. Mebbe… mebbe m’thinkin’ about…. ‘Bout dancin’ with someone I can’t,” Egon slurred, not looking up. “‘Cause there ain’t no way h-” A pause as Egon caught himself. No, no, if he said ‘he’ Ray would catch on! Be smart! “Shhhhhhhhhe wants me th’way I want her. Y’know?”

 

“You have a crush on someone?” Ray smiled a little. “Cute. I never knew you even got crushes. Who is it? Dana? Janine? Someone I don’t know?”

 

“Oh… y’know her.” Egon looked up and crookedly smiled. “Think you’d like her. She’s nice.”

 

“What’s her name?”

 

Shit. He didn’t think this far ahead. Egon swore he felt the gears turn in his cocktail-addled brain before he came up with what he swore was a brilliant answer at the time. “Raaaaaaachel.”

 

“Rachel? I don’t know anyone named Rachel.” Apparently, he was in the clear. That, or Ray wasn’t letting on that he had Egon busted. “Maybe I just don’t remember her.” 

 

“Mmm. Maybe y’haven’t metter. I dunno. Maybe Ma tried t’hook me up with her one time.” His lie was falling apart. He knew it was. “But you… you’d like her.”

 

Ray nodded, trying his best to smile and ignore the pain in his stomach. So it really hadn’t been a date after all. He shouldn’t’ve gotten his hopes up - he had a habit of letting himself down. “Well, tell me all about her later, but maybe it’s time to go home, Spengs.” He said, sighing a bit.

 

Egon shook his head with the speed of molasses running down a wall. “N’. Y’ and Peter ‘r havin’ fun. Like n’rmal people. Don’ lemme mess up y’re normal people fun.” He said with such an exaggerated pitiful tone it made Ray ache inside even more. The words were just as sad - Egon never really let on about his hangups and insecurities like that, especially not in such a forward way. Ray was almost starting to think nothing could shake him.

 

No time for that. Ray stood up and zipped up his jacket. “To be honest with you, Egon, I’m not really having too much fun. I’m ready to go home too.” He said, then reached down to hook one of Egon’s thin arms around his shoulders. For what Egon had on him in height, he made up for in weight and strength. It was a bit much however to try and walk with six feet, five inches, and 190 pounds of drunken genius barely clinging onto him. It’d be a disaster if Egon threw up now.

 

They managed to get outside, passing Peter on the way out who looked like he wouldn’t be returning to the firehouse that night. Ray managed to hail a cab and maneuver into it with Egon, telling the driver the directions as best as he could remember to Egon’s place. He deserved his own bed tonight, not the bunks.

 

“Easy, big fella. Take it slow.” Ray tried not to let his own heartbreak show as he gently guided Egon to his bedroom. “One foot in front of the other. I got you.”

 

“M’sorry I…” Egon hiccuped as Ray deposited him in his bed. “Ruined y’r night.”

 

“No, Egon, you didn’t ruin anything. It’s fine,” Ray lied, forcing a smile. “Get some sleep. You’re gonna need it. Want me to stay?”

 

“Mmf. F’you wanna. Y’don’t hate me?”

 

“Why would I?” The question was genuine. Ray was hurt, sure, but he never, ever, could have hated Egon. They were best friends since college. You don’t give up on history like that even if you did have an unrequited crush. Right? “I don’t hate you. Go on, sleep it off. I’ll stay over. If you need me, I’m on the couch.” With that, Ray took Egon’s glasses from him and placed them on the nightstand, smiled as warmly as he could, and wandered to the couch. He sunk onto it and buried his face in his palms, cursing himself. “Fuck. Fuck! M’so fuckin’ stupid…” A deep, shuddering breath to hold back tears escaped him. It didn’t work. He felt the hot drops run down his cheeks and swore again. “Goddammit. What did you think was gonna happen, Ray?” he asked himself, forcefully wiping his eyes.

 

He sighed heavily and lay his head down on a throw pillow, unsure of what else to do. He didn’t really want to leave- what if Egon needed someone in the middle of the night?- and at the same time, he couldn’t bear the thought of staying. He let the tears flow as he buried his face in the pillow, trembling a little. The fabric smelled like Egon. Like home. Eventually, Ray’s tears ceased, and he let himself drift into a fitful sleep, still in his flight suit and boots on Egon’s couch.

 

He wasn’t sure what time it was, but he awoke to a noise in the bedroom. Ray grumbled a little, half-awake, and glanced at the clock through dry, sore eyes. 2:15 in the morning. Maybe Egon was starting to feel the aftereffects of all that booze and was trying to fend off nausea. Or maybe… what if he was having a nightmare? Or hurt himself somehow? Egon managed to injure himself with a safety pin one time. It wasn’t beyond him.

 

Really, quite the opposite was happening. Egon, or his dream self, was still very much so in bed, but he couldn’t quite move. In a minor panic, he looked about the room, unable to recognize anything around him or see a familiar face. Then he called out. “Hello?”

 

He was met not with a response, but a weight settling onto his lap. “What the-?”

 

It was Ray. Very much so the same Ray that he looked at everyday, but this Ray was mute as it looked down at him with lusty, dark eyes. That look somewhat raised his alarm, but he was soon much, more distracted. In a smooth movement, this Ray lowered to his chest, fixing its gaze fimly with his as it slid down past his stomach to his crotch.

 

Egon felt himself get warm, his already rapid breathing increase as his fly was unzipped and his friend began to perform a very new, unexpected, and non-platonic act. He closed his eyes, his gasp turning into a moan aloud as....

 

_ Thunk. _

 

Awake, in a cold sweat, and feeling very cloudy and dizzy, Egon was on his bedroom floor. How did he get here? And why was he still in uniform? Slowly, memories of the nightclub bubbled past the cracks of the sensual imagery he was  _ much  _ more occupied with. The door swung open.

 

“Egon? Are you alright?”

 

Egon slowly looked up from the floor, first at a pair of boots. Then Ray’s face. The same face that had been... _ orally pleasuring  _ him in a dream minutes. He didn’t know what to do or say. His body decided for him. He felt his nervous and already irritated stomach roil and he scrambled up from the floor without a word further.

 

Ray said nothing when Egon blitzed past him and darted into the bathroom, slamming the door behind him. “Spengs?” he eventually choked out, rapping on the door gently. “You alright in there?”

 

Behind running water, Ray heard some distinctly unpleasant noises, coughing, and a quiet groan before Egon answered, “No, I’m not.”

 

“Can I come in?”

 

“.... Give me a moment.”

 

Inside, Egon rested his elbows on the toilet seat, holding his head in his hands. What the  _ hell  _ was going on? He felt like everything was spinning, literally and metaphorically, and throwing up hadn’t even helped with the literal spinning. He needed a minute.

 

Outside, Ray head the toilet flush, the sink run for a minute longer, and when Egon opened the door - pale, hair stuck to his forehead with sweat, and trembling - he looked not unlike a corpse. “Geez. I knew you were a lightweight, but I didn’t think it was that bad,” Ray said, noticing that his breath smelled of Listerine as opposed to recently-vomited alcohol. “What did you drink, Egon? Jager? That stuff is rough on me, too.”

 

“It’s… it’s not what I drank. I think.” Egon sighed a little and nudged past Ray, opting to settle onto the couch instead of return to his bed. “I had an… alarming dream. To say the least.”

 

“Oh. Damn, must’ve been pretty bad if it made you sick.” Ray sat down beside him. “I get those kinds of dreams sometimes, though. I know how you feel.”

 

Somehow, Egon doubted that. “Thank you for understanding, then.”

 

“So, um… you doing okay, though? I mean, you were trashed.”

 

“I think so. I have a bit of a headache.” Egon rubbed his temples, more for effect than anything. “I think I just want to go back to bed.”

 

“Alright, it’s only, like, 2. You want some aspirin or something?”

 

“I’ll get it. Thank you for your concern, Ray. And, um… thank you for staying. I appreciate it.”

 

Egon vanished into the bathroom before Ray, left blushing and mildly startled on the couch, could answer, taking a deep breath and looking at his reflection for a moment before casting a glance down his body.  _ Well,  _ he thought, noting the tent in his pants,  _ at least he didn’t notice that. He must be pretty tipsy, still. _

 

He downed a couple of aspirin and toddled back to bed, still half-asleep and half-drunk. Curling up under the blankets, Egon sighed a little and prayed that his dream wouldn’t pick up where it left off. At least… not until Ray wasn’t in the apartment anymore.


	5. chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

 

“What’s up, lambchop?”

 

Ray raised his eyes from the card table, this time spread with a copy of Tobin’s Spirit Guide and schematics of the building Dana Barrett lived in, to see Peter coming up the stairs into the loft of the firehouse. He pushed his glasses onto his head and stretched. “Pete. I didn’t even hear you come in.” He said, yawning a bit and eyeing the clock.

 

Ten p.m. Early for Peter, but getting late for him. Not that they’d had any type of restful schedule since the Sedgewick bust. He couldn’t find it in him to protest as Peter loudly pulled out a chair and sat across from him.

 

“You can’t give the ghost stuff a rest for one night?”

 

“The ghost stuff is our  _ job  _ now. Plus, I want to give Dana something new, she seemed so scared when she came by.” Ray said, rolling a pencil around on the table.

 

“Where’s Egon?”

 

Ugh. Hearing his name still made Ray’s chest clench, nearly two weeks after that whole club incident. Rubbing his eyes to make it go away and feign sleepiness over heartbreak, he sniffed. “Erm...out. I think. Not sure.” He mumbled.

 

Across from him, Peter’s expression softened a bit. Venkman was never known to be the softest, or most empathetic and kind person that ever was - not that he was particularly mean. In his own words, he showed love a different sort of way most of the time. But, for what he lacked in outright kindness, he made up for in sensitivity and intuition (along with a doctorate education in psychology). And he could tell that something was wrong with his friend.

 

“Erm, that’s a little out of the norm for you, pal. Are you doing alright, with this whole fame and no sleep thing?” He asked, brash tone gone.

 

“Yeah, um...yeah. I dunno.” Ray responded, eyes firmly fixed down at the table.

 

“Hey.”

 

At that, Ray managed to look up at Peter, who continued, “Something’s up with you. I’ve been your friend way too long for you to try and hide it from me, lambchop, so speak now or forever hold your peace -”

 

“I think I’m in love with Egon!” Ray blurted out, almost overwhelmed at how  _ good  _ it felt to say it out loud. To admit it to someone besides himself. He braced himself as he studied Peter’s mildly shocked expression.

 

“Well...can’t say I’m surprised. I never thought you two would address that massive nerdy sexual tension thing you had going.” Peter responded. Ray physically sagged with relief.

 

“Jesus, I thought you’d be an asshole about it.” The latter said, letting a small smile creep onto his face.

 

“Me? An asshole?” Peter said incredulously, like the very notion offended him deeply, He withdrew a cigarette from his pocket, lit it, and began to smoke. “When it comes to matters of the heart, I stop the douchebag train. I have to ask, though - does Egon know?”

 

Ray shook his head, miserable all over again at that question. “No - don’t think so.” He sighed. “And even if he did know, I don’t think it matters. Remember that night that we did that bust at that club downtown?”

 

“Fondly.”

 

“Well, he was drunk, and he started talkin’ about wanting to dance with someone he couldn’t that he liked. When I asked him who it was, he said it was some girl named Rachel.”

 

Peter pondered the story for a bit. He couldn’t help but think that Rachel was awfully close to Ray, and this girl may have been the product of intoxicated quick thinking. “Well...you never know pal. Drunk people, especially people who aren’t drunk that often, aren’t always known for being sensible. And even if this girl exists, there’s not too much you can do to change it.” He said, shrugging a little. He took a long drag from his cig, blowing the smoke out before continuing to speak.

 

“It hurts. But I wouldn’t be so quick to absolutely rule out anything happening. Egon’s cut from a different kind of cloth - he’s not easy to read at first glance. Try to get some sleep before the next call comes huh?” And with that, Peter put out the cigarette in an ashtray in the corner of the table and walked off toward the bunk room. 

 

Now alone, Ray sighed deeply. Maybe he ought to just call it a night - even if they didn’t get a night call, they were supposed to get someone swinging by in the morning about the position they’d posted in the paper. 

 

The firehouse door slamming shut jolted him to attention, and he stiffened, staring at the steps.

 

“Raymond. You’re still up.” Egon, or rather his head, popped up at the bottom of the bannisters. Ray relaxed.

 

“I am. B-but I was just heading to bed.” He said, standing fully and nudging the chair closer to the table. “How was...wherever you were?” Ray’s stomach hurt as soon as he spoke the words aloud. A date? With  _ Rachel,  _ whoever the hell that was? Peter’s words nudged him at the back of his mind, but the pain of unrequited feelings had the tendency to drown out logic.

 

“My mother’s home? The same. There was much discussion about our ‘spook business’ in her words.” Egon said, smiling crookedly before his next addition. “Mostly  _ kvetching. _ ”

 

“Kvetching?”

 

“Complaining. It’s Yiddish.” Egon explained further, shrugging off his long coat and hanging it on the peg near the staircase. He paused for a moment while hanging it up. The awkward air between that’d been hanging around for the last month had only thickened after the incident at the nightclub and in his apartment, and it was getting harder and harder to ignore. Maybe, he should try to say something.

 

“Ray?” He called out without looking back until he heard Ray’s footsteps pause. “If you aren’t feeling too tired, perhaps we could talk for a moment.

 

“Erm, sure, Egon. Anything.” He responded. Egon finished fiddling with his coat, then turned to face him.

 

“So, about that evening, a few weeks back. When I was...heavily intoxicated in that nightclub. And you were in my apartment.” He started, then trailed off as he noticed Ray looking away. “I just wanted to say-”

 

“Hey, Spengs, all of a sudden I’m not feeling too hot.” Ray half-lied, feeling that crushing feeling settle into his stomach and chest and his eyes start to burn. “I’m just gonna head to bed and we can bring it back up tomorrow.” And without waiting from an answer from Egon, he turned and hustled toward the bunks. 

 

_ Fuck.  _ Egon thought to himself, with a rare expletive.


	6. chapter six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> boy!! they did it!!

**Chapter Six**

 

Ray had always wondered if there was a maximum to how exhausted someone could be before they spontaneously dropped dead or unconscious. Now, he was pretty sure that he was close to it.

 

He yawned, shivering a bit as he and Peter entered the firehouse with steaming traps after a long night of calls. He took a moment to set one down and rubbed at his eyes with his sleeve. “I gotta get some sleep, I’m dying.” Ray said, shaking his head in an attempt to clear the cobwebs. 

 

Peter shook his head. “You don’t look good.”

 

“I don’t?”

 

“You’ve looked better. Not like this.” Peter said, gesturing to his friend as he pulled out a packet of papers. “Here’s the paper for the woman in Brooklyn, Janine. She paid with Visa.”

 

The bespectacled secretary responded with her own sheaf of papers. “Here’s tonight’s worksheet.” She said. Ray groaned as he looked over Peter’s shoulder.

 

“Ugh. Two more free repeaters.”

 

“Oh, this is Winston Zeddemore.” Janine continued, gesturing to the black gentleman in a plaid shirt sitting across from her. “He’s here about the job.”

 

“Great, you’re hired!” Ray answered without hesitation. “Ray Stantz. That’s Pete Venkman. Could you give me a hand with these?”

 

He passed off his extra traps to Winston and went to make his way downstairs, but turned when he didn’t see Peter following them. “Where are you off to, Pete?”

 

“Carnegie Hall, I guess. To deliver all that new info you were digging up for Dana Barrett. About the Hit-titties or however you pronounce it.”

 

“The Hittites. Have fun, try not to scare her off too badly.” Ray said, heading down the basement stairs with Winston.

 

* * *

  
  


“Egon Baram Spengler, you will wear a hole in my carpet!”

 

The older man sighed in frustration, and collapsed irritably into one of the overstuffed armchairs. His mother’s apartment had a great deal of charm, tucked into the corner of a quiet building in the Bronx with plenty of bridge partners around and full of the furniture pieces left over from his childhood home. It was what he needed - some place to think clearly away from lab equipment and ghosts and the only ear in the world, perhaps, wiser than his own.

 

Katherine Spengler sat across from her son, watching him uncomfortably nurse a rather undersized mug full of chamomile tea. “Now what have you done to yourself, my son?”

 

He sighed heavily. “Mother…I’ve made a mistake and hurt somebody. Amd I am...unsure of how to fix it. You know I’ve never been very good with matters of the heart. Especially my own.” Egon said, looking at his mug rather than directly at his mother.

 

Katherine clucked and made a noise that could only be described as Jewish maternal sadness. “Oh, Egie.” Katherine cooed, getting up to cross the room to the loveseat that was a little closer to him. “Tell me all about it.”

 

Egon stared into his tea for a while longer, taking in his reflection. He looked every one of his forty years, he decided. “I… you know Ray, right?”

 

“Your little friend from college? Of course! Is everything okay?”

 

“I… Mother, I…” Egon bit his lip, trying to think of the best way to word this. “I feel like… I think I’m falling for him?”

 

For a moment, silence, uncomfortable silence. Then Katherine squealed like an excited schoolgirl, and Egon had to force back a wince. “You’re in love?!” his mother yelled, the smile on her face evident in her very tone. “Egie, I thought this would never happen! When’s the wedding?! Are you going to marry him, that is? I hope so! You two would have such lovely children-”

 

“Mother, he’s the one I hurt.”

 

“... Oh.” Katherine deflated a little. “What happened, honey?”

 

“I… we had a job at a dance club a few weeks back, and I… had a few too many drinks. I don’t remember too much of it but… but I remember telling him I liked this girl named Rachel, and I only said Rachel because I didn’t think I could say his name, and… I don’t think he caught on. I think he believed me. I think our feelings are mutual, but… I haven’t even said anything to him and I’ve ruined any chance I had.”

 

Katherine was quiet as she contemplated her son’s words. “... I don’t think you’ve ruined anything, Egie.”

 

“How?”

 

“Well…” She cleared her throat. “Have you considered just… telling him?”

 

The sip Egon had began taking as his mother spoke was quickly choked on, and it took a few coughs for him to regain his composure and voice. “Erm...um...no. I haven’t.” He responded. “It seems rather dull of me to not consider that.”

 

Katherine shook her head. “It’s not so simple Egon when you’re in the scenario. This isn’t an experiment or something that you’re looking at from the outside and judging clearly - you’re the rat! And the rat’s in love!” She exclaimed, throwing her arms in the air.

 

“Well...should I?”

 

“Yes! And look at the time!” Katherine gestured to the grandfather clock behind Egon - it was nearly 7 p.m. “You haven’t a second to waste!”

 

“Ma!” Egon cried uncharacteristically as his cup was removed from his hand and he was pulled to his feet toward the door.

 

“You get home and tell that boy you love him! Don’t forget to call me, sweetie, I love you!”

 

Her parting words were a blur and Egon still wasn’t especially sure how he’d ended up outside of his mother’s apartment, and even less sure how he ended up in a pay phone booth down the street moments later. He was being unusually impulsive - perhaps that was what love did to people. Even geniuses.

 

Egon took a deep breath. “Erm, Ray? If you’re done...could you meet me at my apartment in fifteen minutes?”

  
  


* * *

  
  


Ray thought his heart was going to fall out of his chest as he stood in the elevator to Egon’s floor. What the hell could he be telling him? Maybe, just maybe….

 

No. He tried to come up with other scenarios, chewing his thumbnail as the elevator stopped and the doors opened. The hallway seemed to stretch forever. Maybe Egon knew and was going to finally tell him off. Or he didn’t want to be friends anymore. Or that Rachel girl would be there.  _ God. _

 

Too soon, he reached Egon’s door, knocked, and waited for a response.

 

Inside, Egon felt his heart stop for just a second at the soft knock on his door. God. He wasn’t ready. He wasn’t ready at all. This was a stupid idea- the  _ worst  _ idea- and he’d have to tell Ray he wasn’t feeling well, and go to bed and cry like a little baby over his lost chance at happiness, and call his mother and tell her what a complete fool he was, how stupid it was that after all of that drama with “Rachel” he still thought Ray could possibly like him.

 

He took a deep breath and pushed all of that to the back of his head as well as he could. No. This had to happen, and it had to happen now or it wasn’t going to happen at all. He took a glance through the peephole and bit his lip, then steeled himself and undid the lock.

 

The door creaked open, and there he was. Ray stood, wringing his hands, at Egon’s door, looking like he was trying not to look nervous but failing miserably. Egon could only assume he looked the same way, really. “... Come in,” Egon murmured, stepping aside and letting Ray into his apartment.

 

Ray, for his part, felt like he was about to faint. Egon was a man of few words, but even for him, this was an awkward and unpleasant silence. Ray settled himself on the couch when Egon gestured to it, still wringing his hands together. “Is… is everything okay?” he asked as Egon settled beside him. “I...  you’re acting kind of weird. Even for you.”

 

“I… don’t know if everything is okay, Raymond,” Egon admitted. “It’s… I have to tell you something.”

 

Ray’s heart sunk. Here it came.  _ I hate you. We can’t be friends anymore.  _ Or worst of all…  _ I’m proposing to Rachel. _

 

“I love you.”

 

There was a long silence. Ray stared back at Egon, wide eyed. He felt like his tongue had turned to ash, and time and all the molecules around them had stopped instantaneously. “...What?”

 

“I’m so sorry, Raym-”

 

“I love you too.”

 

Now it was Egon’s turn to look bewildered. Requited feelings? Professed in such a straightforward manner?

 

“But, Egon....what about Rachel?”

 

“You’re Rachel.” Egon blurted out in response. “I-I...I didn’t think you would ever like somebody like me. And I was severely inebriated, so when you asked me, I just...thought fast.”

 

The silence came back again, but was much more quickly interrupted by Ray.

 

“Well, think fast again.”

 

“Wh-” Egon didn’t get any farther than that before Ray’s lips were on his. At first, he froze, unsure of how to respond. What was he supposed to do? Kiss back? Push him off, because this was way too much way too fast? What should he do with his hands? So many thoughts rushed through his head at once that he kind of felt like he was about to explode.

 

“... You okay?” Ray asked as they parted, his voice low and gentle. “I… you’re stiff as a board. You’re still alive, right? I didn’t just give you a heart attack?”

 

“... M’good.” That was the smartest answer Egon could come up with. “I’m… I’m sorry,” he whispered as his faculties came back. “You just… you caught me off guard.”

 

“Sorry…” Ray blushed and laughed a little bit. “I just… god, Egon, I’ve wanted to do that for a while now. It’s… it just kinda happened. Something came over me and-” Ray found himself quieted by a finger on his lips.

 

“Stop talking,” Egon murmured, “And let’s take a mulligan on that first kiss.”

 

Their second attempt was a little more like what Ray had in mind. Their lips met- gently, yes, but this time with more purpose- and Ray melted in an instant. Goddamn, Egon was a good kisser. And his hands! Ray felt one tangle into his hair and the other grip his shoulder and it sent a tremor down his spine.

 

Egon was the one to break that second kiss. “... Better, right?” he asked with a smile.

 

“So much better.”

 

Neither of them were really quite sure how they moved from there to Egon’s bedroom. They stood near the door, staring at each other for a brief moment in the dusky blue light before locking lips again. Egon’s hands found themselves roaming, pulling at Ray’s shirt, and he felt fingers fumbling with the buttons on his. Ray was so soft, so warm...he didn’t ever want to be far from him again. He didn’t even mind the sensation of the younger’s teeth on his neck and collarbone as he pushed them back onto his bed.

Ray looked up at Egon, swallowing the lump in his throat. “You look different without your glasses.” He managed, laughing nervously.

 

“I’m sure I look different in a number of ways. Raymond, a-are you okay with-?”

 

He received his answer in a silent nod and another kiss, and he pressed forth. Egon didn’t quite know what he was feeling, but it felt natural and unnatural. Primal and composed. It took his breath and he liked it. The sensation of Ray being with him felt like life itself, arms wrapped around his back and hungry tongue exploring his neck and shoulders as the night drifted away. 

 

Sometimes, he supposed, mother did know best. 


	7. chapter seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> and the hastily lit candle goes out quickly.

**Chapter Seven**

 

The sound of a light rain on the window roused Ray. What time was it? Where was he?

 

Turning away and being greeted by the sight of Egon’s thin, bare back answered the latter. Ray smiled fondly, sitting up to rub sleep from his eyes.  _ Oh yeah.  _

 

He turned and began to rummage on the crowded nightstand, picking up his watch.  _ 8:00. _

Ray sighed and got up, walking over to the door to find his boxers. Once he was semi-decent, he walked over to Egon’s side. He looked pretty precious while he was sleeping, free of all his buttoned up composure and without his glasses. 

 

Ray reached out and shook Egon’s shoulder gently. “Hey, um, if we wanna beat Venkman and the new guy there, we should probably get going pretty soon.”

 

Egon grumbled a bit, stirring and sitting up while rubbing his head. Ray barely held back a soft ‘aww!’ in response. Egon was adorable first thing in the morning. Yawning and stretching, Egon slid his glasses onto his face, then glanced at Ray. A brief moment of quiet passed, broken only by the patter of raindrops, before Egon whispered, “We don’t have to get going just yet, do we?”

 

“Um… I don’t think so.” Ray smiled a little. “Why? You alright?”

 

“Fine. I…” Egon paused, then returned the tiny smile. “Last night was… quite the experience.” He patted the spot in bed beside him. “Sit beside me a while, would you?”

 

Ray cocked an eyebrow but did as he was asked. “You sure you’re alright, Spengs?”

 

“I’m fine, honestly. I just… this is a new experience for me. I, um… perhaps I could treat you to breakfast, if you want? It only feels fair, considering you let me…”

 

“I didn’t let you do anything,” Ray interrupted. “I wanted you to. I think you’ll remember I begged at about the two hour mark.”

 

Egon blushed a bright red. “... Quite,” he murmured. “Or, uh, if… we could just be late, if you wanted.”

 

“Geez. All of that and you’re not done? You’d think after last night you wouldn’t want to see me for like, a week.”

 

“No, no, I just… I know a vast majority of people enjoy some romantic intimacy after they… well, you know. And… I feel like I didn’t provide you with enough of that, I suppose.”

 

“Egon.” Ray chuckled a little bit. “I honestly didn’t expect any different. I know how you are. You’re… you. It’s okay if you’re not touchy-feely after we bang, honest.”

 

“I’m having a hard time believing you.”

 

“Why?”

 

“... None of my previous partners were ever okay with it.”

 

Ray contemplated that for a moment, then shrugged. “Well...I’m not your previous partners, Egie.” He said, letting the nickname slip. “I was your best friend before all this. I’m a pretty easy-going guy, I’d like to think, so I don’t expect you to be like...full boyfriend off the jump.”

 

That word. Yikes. “Erm...okay.” Egon responded dully. “I’m glad you’re understanding of me and my...abnormality.”

 

“S’ not abnormal. What the hell is normal? We chase ghosts for a living.” Ray said, shrugging. 

 

“That’s fair. Well, are we going to get going or-?”

 

Ray shook his head a little and got up to rummage through this pants pocket for a cigarette and a lighter. “Not yet, I suppose. I hope you don’t mind?” 

 

“No. You remember I used to be a regular chimney.” Egon sat up and scooted to the edge. “I’ll make coffee and we can pray that Venkman shows up late today.”

 

* * *

 

 

Venkman’s head popped up from his papers at his desk as the firehouse door opened. He could see Egon and Ray walk in, briefly speak to each other, and then Egon moving up the stairs. He frowned a little over his readers, trying to look at Ray as he walked toward his direction. Was that the same shirt he’d been wearing yesterday?

 

“Ray? Come here real quick.”

 

Ray’s first response was to wince. Oh, god, they hadn’t beat Venkman to work. No sign of the new guy, though, so that was something. Ray stepped closer to Peter’s desk and forced a smile. “Hey. What’s up?”

 

“... Is that the same shirt you were wearing yesterday?”

 

“Oh, this?” Ray glanced down at his shirt, the same Rush shirt he’d worn the day before, a souvenir from the concert he’d seen a couple years prior. “Nah, you know me, Pete, I just have a bunch of these, and-”

 

“You only have  _ one  _ of  _ that _ shirt, though.” Peter folded his hands and smirked. “What’s the deal? You feelin’ okay?”

 

“Fffffine.” Ray’s smile was a little more blatantly forced now. “Just… fell asleep in my clothes last night and didn’t feel like I had to change because I wasn’t, like, sweaty or anything, just kinda got lazy and-”

 

“You’re babbling. You babble when you’re trying to cover something up. What’s the matter with you, lamb chop?”

 

That stupid, smug face of his. Ray hated when Peter knew something and wouldn’t tell you he did. He’d just sit there and smile, smile like he owned the world, and he wasn’t planning on sharing. Ray wanted to smack that dumb smirk off his face. “I’m fine. Honestly. Just-”

 

“You and Spengs finally fucked, didn’t you.”

 

Ray choked on his own saliva. He wasn’t sure if it was the bluntness of the comment that startled him, the monotone voice Peter said it in, or the fact that he had them figured out so quickly. “What? No! No, we didn’t… Pete, we’re just friends, you know that, we would never-”

 

“Raaaaaay.”

 

“We didn’t-”

 

“Ray, come on.”

 

The younger sighed, rolling his eyes and crossing his arms. “...Fine. Um, yeah. We...had sex.”

 

“I knew it! I know everything, Ray!” Peter pushed his glasses onto his head and playfully rested his elbows on his desk, feigning curiosity. “Was it everything you ever hoped? Was it magical? Rate the sex from 1 to Tom Cruise.”

 

“ _ Venkman. _ ”

 

“I’m excited for you, kid! You’re in love!”

 

Ray smiled a little. “We’ll see on the love part. He seems a little...emotionally constipated, right now.”

 

Peter raised an eyebrow. “Egon? Bad at expressing his emotions openly? I would have never thought.” He said sarcastically, sitting back to rest his feet on the desk. “But, for real? Honestly? Give him time. You know how he is.”

 

“Yeah, you’re right. Anything new from Dana?”

 

“She wants to go out with me. So you and Spengs or the new guy or whatever will have the chance to look through her apartment in a few nights.” Peter said, grinning. “So you two can like smash in a new place.”

 

“Well, this was embarrassingly personal, so I’m going to work on Ecto.”

 

* * *

 

 

Ray gave Egon distance. He gave him time. He half-expected him to be better after a few days, but no. They acted like nothing had happened- well, Egon did- and for some reason, that irked Ray endlessly. On some level, maybe he was a little upset that Egon didn’t seem too interested in being as close emotionally as they had been physically. Maybe he did want some time afterwards to just… be. To be, and to revel in the fact that his  _ goddamn dreams  _ were coming true. But no.

 

“So do you want to come with me to investigate Dana’s apartment?” Ray asked one cold, dreary evening. Rain once again tapped against the glass of the firehouse windows as Egon tinkered with a gizmo even Ray wasn’t fully up to speed on. “I don’t know if any of us should do it alone. You know, never split up, and all of that.”

 

“I don’t believe I can tonight, Ray,” Egon answered, not looking up from whatever he was busy micro-soldering onto the piece. “I’ve got some more research to do on this Gozer character Venkman mentioned.”

 

Ray felt his face fall, and he couldn’t keep his disappointment to himself. “Of course you can’t,” he mumbled, evidently just loud enough for sharp-eared Egon to pick up.

 

“Of course I can’t what? You know I’m our primary researcher. I have to make sure we can safely contain-”

 

“You’ve been weird ever since we… it’s like you don’t want to be around me anymore.”

 

“What? No. You know that isn’t true.”

 

“Do I, though?” Ray asked, shrugging his jacket on over his flight suit. “Look, if you just want to be friends with benefits or something, that’s fine, but don’t tell me you love me if all you want is to bang me.”

 

Egon set down the soldering tool with a firm thud. “You know I always mean what I say. And I don’t take acts like that lightly.” He said irritably. “Frankly, Raymond, I’m disappointed that you’d even begin to insinuate something like that.”

 

Ray gave him a dark look. “ _ Disappointed _ ? Are you my father, my boyfriend, or some scummy asshole who just wanted to fuck me? It seems like you’re having a hard time deciding.” He said angrily, slinging his bag onto his shoulder and setting for the door. “Call me when you figure it out.”

 

“Raymond!”

 

Egon followed Ray hotly, straight into the deluge. He reached for Ray’s shoulder to stop him.

 

“Don’t fucking touch me!” Ray slapped his hand away, turning to face him. “Y-you don’t EVER fucking touch me again!”

 

Egon stepped back like he’d been burned, startled by the intensity of Ray’s anger. “Don’t let your emotions cloud your judgement, Raymond. You know I wouldn’t do something like that to you.” He said coolly, shaking his head.

 

“ _ My  _ emotions are the problem? Take a hard fucking look in the mirror, Spengler.”

 

“I- what are you talking about?!”

 

“Don’t act like you don’t know, you piece of shit!” Ray felt tears burn his eyes, but he wiped them away and hoped Egon thought he was getting the rainwater out of his face. “You… god, Egon, would it kill you to be a little more open? Again - are we dating? Are we fuckbuddies? Or are you just a piece of shit who wanted to get his dick wet and then pretend it never happened?!”

 

Egon was silent for a moment, startled by the accusation. “I… I don’t know what we are, Ray, but I promise, I do love you,” he managed. “I do. I wouldn’t say something like that if I didn’t mean it. You know who else I’ve said that to, ever? My mother. And my twin,  _ once.  _ I don’t say things I don’t mean.”

 

“Could’ve fooled me,” Ray snorted. He turned to leave, headed towards the nearest subway station. “Call me when you get your shit straightened out, Egon. I’m going to Dana’s. Someone has to take some fucking responsibility around here and it sure as hell isn’t gonna be you, apparently.”

 

And with that, he disappeared into the rainstorm, and Egon stood in the freezing cold rain for a couple more seconds, processing what had just happened. He silently turned and walked back into the firehouse, leaned against the door, and shivered with cold for a moment before hot tears coursed down his cheeks. “Goddammit,” he murmured to no one but himself. “Genius, my ass,” he continued, drying his eyes and stalking towards the stairs, “You get a chance to be happy and you ruin it. Like always.” Storming upstairs, he shed his wet clothes and instead pulled on his flight suit, the only dry garment that would fit him. “Some genius you are, Egon.”


	8. chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The terror dogs arrive to cause havoc with two unwitting hosts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello this is your friendly neighborhood miso! curlypeakism kindly asked me to upload the rest of the chapters tonight :3

Ray fumed as he walked down the hall to Dana’s place. _God_ , all men were the same.

He dug into his jacket pocket for the key, aggressively shoving it into the lock and leaning into the door. The apartment was dark, and he walked over to the lamp sitting between two arm chairs. The decoration was pleasant, nothing gaudy or outrageous, and the place was pretty inviting.

He took the PKE meter out of his pocket, waving it around the room. Nothing, nada, zilch. Ray sighed. He couldn’t depend on anything. He’d call Peter and tell him to take Dana to his place so he could conduct an overnight observation. He sat down heavily into the chair, reaching down to untie his boot.

Behind him, the crack of light coming from the shut kitchen door he hadn’t noticed was growing more and more intense. He didn’t look up until he heard a low growl, and noticed the shine touching his hand. Ray sat up, and twisted slowly to look at the door.

“Oh, _shit_.”

A monstrous hand burst up, ripping the chair and holding him steadfast to the chair. He tried to get up again, but was pulled back by two more hands, one of which muffled his screams as the chair rotated under its own power to face the open kitchen door which had a snarling doglike demon awaiting him. He was powerless, only able to keep screaming and try to scoot back in a fruitless effort to avoid the chair moving toward the devil dog. 

Meanwhile, Egon’s night was long, uneventful, and full of self-loathing. He couldn’t focus, not knowing how he’d treated Ray, how he’d hurt him. He’d settled for laying on the couch, limbs akimbo spider-like, and trying to watch brainless television in hopes maybe, just maybe, he could fall asleep and forget any of that awful fight ever happened.

He was halfway there when a soft growl caught his attention. Jolting awake and sitting up, he slid his glasses on and glanced around the room. A soft glow was coming from the bunk room, shimmering from underneath the door. _Hm. I don’t recall leaving a light on._

Egon stood, turned the television off, and stepped toward the bunks. Another low growl came from the other side of the door. An animal, perhaps? What kind of animal would have gotten into the bunks and be making that kind of noise? Maybe a wildcat of some description had escaped from the Central Park Zoo, but that would be a helluva climb.

He opened the door, just a crack, and gasped in shock when his eyes met the glowing red ones of a canine-esque demon. The creature snarled, crawled off of Peter’s bed (the fuck was it doing there? Egon wondered for half a second before the more imminent threat pushed its way back to the front of his mind), and stalked toward Egon. Slamming the door shut and rushing toward the fire pole, Egon heard wood splinter behind him, then heavy footsteps racing toward him. He slid down the pole before the demon could reach him and scrambled toward Peter’s desk, hoping to hide, but the thing was _fast_. It rushed down the stairs and cornered him before he had a chance to leap over Janine’s desk in a panic.

“... Nice puppy,” Egon mumbled, pressing himself against the wall. “I, um… y-you like Twinkies? I have a Twinkie!” He dug in his pocket for a second before the demon let out a bloodcurdling roar and lunged for him.

* * *

 

Venkman felt great. Dana was definitely into him, he’d scammed a waiter out of a steak without appearing _too_ scummy - everything was great.

“See? I told you I wasn’t too bad.” Peter teased, offering Dana his arm as they stepped onto the curb. She rolled her eyes, accepting the crook of his elbow.

“Well, we’ll see about that. I watched you slip the waiter a $20 and tell him you were a Ghostbuster, by the way.” She responded, but then turned to face the door and frowned. “What the hell is happening up there?”

The doorman was talking to a police officer and a rather bemused building administrator. She took the initiative and took a few steps forward. “What’s going on, gentlemen?”

The police officer shrugged. “I was just leaving. But, there were complaints of screams and other strange activity coming from an apartment on the top floor. You’re not going up there, are you?”

“Erm…” Dana glanced at Peter, who made a quick gesture across his throat. “No. We should be fine.”

They hurried inside to the elevator, Dana giving Peter a look of concern. “Do you think that Ray and Egon are okay?”

“Probably. I wouldn’t worry too much yet - Ray’s pretty capable on his own.”

“You let him go alone?”

“I thought Spengs would go with him, but he was there when I left, sulking about something.”  
The elevator landed at the top floor with a ding, and Peter- proclaiming “Stay back. A gentleman never lets his lady friend get hurt,”- took the first steps down the hall. All seemed fine, with the exception of Dana’s door. Something wasn’t quite right. The knob was hot to the touch, and while Peter didn’t smell smoke, he certainly smelled _something_ that he couldn’t describe as pleasant.  
“The hell is that smell?” Dana asked, covering her mouth and nose with a hand. Peter responded with a shrug and opted to knock on the door instead of opening it himself.

“Hey, lamb chop, you alright in there?”

The door opened, slowly. Ray stood before them, in what looked like some kind of toga.

“... Are those my curtains?” Dana asked, looking him up and down in confusion. Ray ignored her and instead made eye contact with Peter. Prolonged, sultry, mildly upsetting eye contact.

“Are you the Keymaster?” he breathed, in a seductive tone. Peter grimaced a little.

“Uh… no?”

Ray rolled his eyes and slammed the door, and Peter turned to Dana. “... Something’s wrong.”

“He’s wearing my curtains,” Dana repeated, rubbing her temples. “Why is he wearing my curtains? Those were expensive.”

“I’m more concerned with the fact he was eye-fucking me, honestly,” Peter responded. “Who the hell is the Keymaster?”

“I think we need to ask him that.”

Peter paused, then shrugged again and knocked once more. “Hey, buddy, c’mon. Let us in.”

Ray opened the door and repeated himself. “Are you the Keymaster?”

“Sure,” Peter answered with a nervous but charming grin. “I mean, I’m a friend of his. He sent me.”

Ray looked skeptical, but he stepped aside and allowed them both into the apartment.

“Shit.” Dana and Peter whispered in sync, taking in the scene. There were singe marks everywhere, and the kitchen door was splintered. One of the chairs were missing, and the rug was disheveled. Ray, meanwhile, was strolling about the room, examining the decorations. Dana shot Peter a look of deep confusion.

“Peter, what the _hell_ is happening?” She whispered.

“Um, you never told us your name.” Peter called in Ray’s direction. He turned around, rubbing a vase in a quite disturbing manner,

“I am Zuul. I am the Gatekeeper.” He responded.

“What are you doing here and _why_ are you wearing my curtains?” Dana interjected, earning a dirty look from Peter.

“We must prepare for the coming of Gozer, the destructor.” Ray breathed, curling his hand around the vase and looking down at it hungrily. Dana and Peter looked at each other in horror and mild disgust. They didn’t have much time to process, as Ray set down the vase and shoved Dana out of the way to press himself against Peter.

“Do you want this body?” He asked hungrily, trying to pull Peter’s hands around his body. Peter tried his best to push him back.

“Erm, I don’t think you’d be okay with that happening. Or Egon.”

“I want your cock inside me, subcreature.”

“Nope, nope, nope, no thank you, sir.” Peter said firmly, pushing Ray down onto the couch. He turned to Dana. “I’d recommend we make a call to the firehouse.

* * *

 

“I never knew you were such a big fan of Broadway,” Janine chirped to Winston as he opened the door to the firehouse. “Maybe we can see a show together sometime! No one ever wants to go with me but it’s so much more fun if you have someone with you.”

“Maybe,” Winston answered with a grin. “Thanks for dinner, by the way. And, um, the run-down on all the crazy shit that happens around here.” He paused when they stepped into the firehouse. It looked like a tornado had gone through; Janine’s computer monitor was in pieces on the floor, scratch marks littered the wall nearby, and heavy footfalls echoed from upstairs. “... Damn,” Winston mumbled, “Did something get loose in here?”

“Kinda looks like it, but last I saw it was just Egon in here. He was upstairs mopin’ about something,” Janine said, glancing around and taking note of her paperwork scattered and torn across the floor. She cursed under her breath. “Maybe we should go check on him?”

Winston said nothing and followed Janine up the stairs. Egon paced the floor, mumbling under his breath, pausing only when he noticed Janine and Winston staring at him. “... Are either of you the Gatekeeper?”

“What.” Winston’s flat tone would have been hilarious if it wasn’t echoing exactly how Janine felt. “You okay, man?”

“Egon, what’s going on?” Janine asked, furrowing her brow and taking a step closer to him. “What happened downstairs? The place is a wreck.” She paused. “You look… sweaty. And you smell awful.”

“I repeat. Are either of you the Gatekeeper?”

Winston thought for a second. “... We know ‘em,” he answered. “Who, exactly, are you?”

“My name is Vinz Clortho,” Egon began, “Keymaster of Gozer, Volguus Zildrohaar, Lord of the Sebouilla.”

“Oh. Um… nice to meet you, Vinz.” Janine shot Winston a baffled look, and he answered with a shrug that said ‘I don’t know any more than you do’. “Who’s this… this Gatekeeper you keep talkin’ about?”

“I must rendezvous with the Gatekeeper to bring about the coming of Gozer, the Destructor.” Egon resumed pacing. “We await a sign that will signify it is time for us to become one and cause the return of Gozer.”

Winston and Janine exchanged a look. “... I think we need to call Peter,” Janine whispered, already heading for the phone.

Almost on cue, the phone rang and Janine rushed to pick it up. “Peter?”

“How the hell are you, Janine?” On the other side of town, Peter was trying to fend off Ray by occasionally throwing crackers in any place that wasn’t his lap. “You don’t happen to have somebody called the Keymaster nearby, do you?”

“It’s funny that you ask that.” Janine whispered uncomfortably, turning around to watch Egon down a boiling pot of water without so much as wincing. “Egon’s gone all strange. He’s sweaty and he keeps asking about the Gatekeeper. I’m scared, not going to lie to you.”

“Well, Ray is searching for anything vaguely resembling a functioning penis and talking about the Keymaster. I gave him a good handful of Benadryl, so he should go down pretty soon. It seems extremely important that we keep them apart at all costs.” Peter said, using his foot to push Ray’s head away from his approach toward his crotch.

“Why?” Janine asked, watching Egon tear open a box of Cheez-Its like it was made out of tissue paper and pour them directly into his mouth. “Maybe we need to get them together and let them get this out of their system…?”

“No,” Peter said sternly, stiff-arming Ray to keep him far, far away from his family jewels, “I don’t know what’s going on with them, but I don’t like it. Ray keeps saying that when he and the Keymaster get together they’ll bring about the coming of Gozer, and I don’t think we want that. Better safe than sorry.”

Janine made a soft noise of agreement. “Fair enough. So… what do we do?”

“Now that, I don’t know. Just… keep them apart. Maybe keep them occupied, try and wait it out. Maybe when Zuulie here sees that we’re not gonna let it get laid it’ll vacate the premises.”  
“God, I hope you’re right.” Janine twirled the phone cord around her finger, desperate for something to do with her hands. “We’ll… work on Egon. He’s starting to scare me, though. He just drank an entire pot of boiling water and ate Cheez-Its like they were cereal. _Dry_ cereal.”

“That’s not that weird for Egon,” Peter quipped as Ray skulked across the room after the 20th rejection of his advances and paid an uncomfortable amount of attention to the vase he’d apparently taken a liking to. “I gotta go. Keep him busy. Ray, don’t touch that-!”

And with that, Peter hung up, and Janine sighed heavily in defeat. “He doesn’t know what to do, either,” she said to Winston, “Except to keep them occupied and separate. Maybe we can wait it out.”

“Wait it out?” Winston asked, looking over at Egon, who looked like he was starting to go stir crazy. “What, do we give him some privacy and Playboys and let him have at it?”

“Maybe Vinz’ll leave if we just… don’t let him get any?” Janine shrugged. “It’s the best we got.”

Their deliberation was interrupted by the sound of the firehouse door opening. “Who the hell could that be?” Winston muttered.

They were met by a stern, scrawny, but official looking man in a suit, accompanied by a police officer and a Con Ed guy. “Hey, you can’t just bust the hell up in here without a warrant!” Winston protested.

The man in a suit smirked and held up a folder. “Cease and desist all commerce order, seizure of premises and chattels, ban on use of public utilities for unauthorized waste handlers, and a federal entry and inspection order. Move out of the way, sir, or I’ll have you arrested.”

“Who are you?”

“I’m Walter Peck from the Environmental Protection Agency. Your...friend Peter Venkman had words with me the other day and thought he could be a smartass. And I’m gonna have this little-” He paused, glancing at Egon sitting nearby on a desk and attempting to scratch his ear with his foot. “ _Science experiment_ shut down.”

Peck and his entourage proceeded down the stairs, with Winston and Egon following in hot pursuit. Janine looked over and saw Peter and Dana rushing in. “Peter, I tried to stop him, but he had a writ -”

Downstairs, Winston was still arguing with the Con Ed man. “From what I understand, shutting this thing down would cause some major shit to happen, man. I wouldn’t recommend it.”

“Don’t think we are grotesquely stupid like the poor people you scam!” Peck spat viciously as Peter, Dana, and Janine came into the crowded basement.

“Buddy,” Peter began, “Just wanna let you know, we’ll comply with-”

“Too late now, wiseass,” Peck snapped as Winston maneuvered himself in front of the containment unit. “Hey! Step back!”

“I’m telling you, it’d be real bad if we shut this down,” he warned him again. “I really don’t think that it’d be a good idea.”

“We’re not stupid, sir,” Peck hissed, “We are government officials, here on official business for the good of the people.” He paused and looked over Egon, busying himself with gnawing on a nearby screwdriver. “Clearly, you’ve already severely affected at least one person, and I refuse to let you harm any more.”

The Con Ed employee watched as Winston sighed heavily and stepped away, miming to the police officer and Peck a large explosion, complete with mouthed ‘boom’. He looked over the equipment for a second. “Uh… I’m not sure how to shut this off. I’ve never seen anything like this before.”

“Just turn it off.”

“But-”

“Turn it off, or I’ll do it for you.”

The employee shrugged, turned back to the containment unit, and looked over the machinery for a second before pressing a button and pulling a lever. Almost instantly, an alarm blared and red light filled the room. “Oh, shit,” he mumbled, immediately sprinting up the stairs before anyone else could.

“Told you!” Winston yelled above the klaxon, grabbing Janine and Egon’s arms before dashing up the steps. “Clear the building!” he cried, practically diving out the door with Peck, the cop, Peter, and Dana on his heels, just before an explosion deafened him.

As soon as he could, Winston looked up and winced at the tall pillar of light emitting from the roof of the firehouse. “... I’m guessing that’s bad,” he mumbled, as Egon stood.

“This is it,” he whispered. “This is the sign.”

“It’s a sign, alright,” Janine said, standing with him. “Going out of business.”

Winston turned to Peter. “What exactly just happened?”

“The protection grid has just fucked off forever.” Peter said dryly.

“That sounds extremely bad.”

They were interrupted by Janine cursing. “Shit! Egon ran off!”

“What?” Peter tangled his hands in his hair. “How?”

“We should be finding him though, let’s go. Now.” Dana said firmly, turning around only to have her path blocked by a red-faced, frothing Peck.

“Hold it! I want these men and their associates arrested! They are in criminal violation of the Environmental Protection Act and this explosion is the direct consequence of it!” He screeched.

Dana frowned and made a lunge for him. “Your _mother_ -!”

As the scuffle broke out, across town in what remained of Dana’s apartment, Ray was hungrily awaiting the Keymaster’s arrival as he watched hell break loose over the city from the bay window. Well, what remained of the window - a gaping hole in the side of the building. The door swung open and Egon, panting and disheveled, stood.

“I am the Keymaster!” He boomed. Ray turned, then naturally yet unnaturally sunk to his knees.

“I am the Gatekeeper.” He responded breathily, dropping to a crawl and going to Egon. When Ray reached his target, he knelt patiently for a beat, then the latter snarled and grabbed him firmly by the jaw, bringing him to his feet for a rough kiss. This time, it was gonna cause a lot more than some emotional turmoil.


	9. chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Keymaster and the Gatekeeper finally unite.

“Hey! I’d like to make a phone call! I only work with these guys! I wasn’t even there!”

Unanswered, Winston pulled himself from the holding cell bars with a heavy sigh. He should’ve stayed in the service. He had benefits. He had stability. He had decent pay. He didn’t have to deal with dusty ghosts and demons tearing up an entire metropolis or being arrested for dealing with them.

He turned back to where Peter and Dana were sitting on the bench with the blueprints of the building over their laps, squished between two burly looking jailbirds. “So what the hell do you two propose to do now?” Winston asked sourly, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Well Winston, as you know full well, the vast majority of our occult and technical knowledge is in the minds of two people. Those two people are not here, as they’ve been possessed by two horny Babylonians and are currently fucking their way to the end of the world.”

“Sumerian, not Babylonian.” Dana mumbled. “I’m sorry about this.”

Peter put on his usual sideways smirk, although it was significantly devoid of its usual grease and full of...genuineness? Worry? Care? “Don’t be. That guy’s a prick and I’m mad you didn’t get a good swing on his stupid bureaucratic jaw. I won’t lie to either of you - I’m worried like shit right now.”

“As am I.” Winston said. “So what we do know - this building and the guy who built it were certifiably insane. Ray was telling me about how this guy believed society was too sick to survive, and a lotta other people felt the same way. The way he built this thing, it was like a huge antenna for supernatural activity in order to host rituals to bring about the end of the world.”

“And now it’s happening.” Dana finished. “So clearly, we need to get the hell out of here and tell somebody about this. Why didn’t the landlord tell _me_ about this?”

“He probably didn’t know. Or it’s a sick joke, one of the two,” Peter added with a casual shrug. “Either of you have a bright plan for getting out of here, then? I mean… I dunno about you, but I don’t really want our friends to fuck themselves to death and cause the apocalypse.”

With perfect timing, a police officer knocked his club against the bars of the cell. “Alright, Ghostbusters! The Mayor wants to talk to you!” he called, unlocking the door and leading Dana, Peter, and Winston out of the cell (leaving the other inmates groaning in mild disappointment at the end of the most interesting story they’d heard in a while).

In his office, the Mayor paced anxiously. “You know what this is gonna do to my approval rating?” he asked one of his advisors, gesticulating at nothing and no one in particular. “I can’t have buildings exploding and shit on my watch. I’m going to go down in history as the worst mayor in the history of New York.”

“I’ve never seen anything like this,” one man said, adjusting his glasses and turning to his map of Manhattan. “The walls in the 53rd precinct were bleeding. You still think it isn’t ghosts, Lenny?”

“Look, I don’t know what these idiots are doing, but there’s no such thing as ghosts.”

As if on cue, the policeman ushered the trio into the room. “Your Honor. Peter Venkman, Winston Zeddemore, and Dana Barrett.” He nodded and stepped aside, apparently intent on staying in the room.

“So you’re the Ghostbusters.”

“Half of them,” Peter interjected, “And an associate.”

“You wanna tell me what the hell’s going on?”

All three of them began to jump into explanation.

“There was this crazy fuck from the 1900s-”

“Sir, the building is designed to-!”

“Mr. Mayor, this is honestly beyond-!”

“Stop! Hold on!” The mayor raised a stiff finger for them to stop. “Where’s this Peck character?”

From the crowd off to the side of the room, Peck bustled forward with a firm grasp on his papers and fire in his eyes. “I am Walter Peck, sir, and I am _fully_ prepared to offer a comprehensive report of these scam artists’ activities. These men are criminals! They use sensitive nerve gases to induce hallucinations, then sell an expensive fake light show to make people believe they’ve defeated _ghosts_.” He said, punctuating his tirade with a sniff.

Dana gave him a pointed look. “You’ll have to excuse my language, but everything was under control to my understanding, until _dickless_ here forced these men and their associates to shut down the power grid.”

“They caused an explosion!”

The mayor raised an eyebrow skeptically, then looked at Peter. “This true?”

“Yes…this man has no dick.” He said coolly, taking a side step as Peck’s impending assault was held back by the nearby police officers.

“This is City Hall, for Christ’s sake!” The mayor said incredulously, then turned to the fire marshals. “Do any of you all have input for me?”

The commissioner sheepishly removed his hat. “All I know is that wasn’t any light show this morning. I’ve seen every type of combustion known to man, and that wasn’t _any_ of them.” 

The archbishop who’d been stoic through it all spoke up. “Lenny, officially, the church cannot offer a position on the religious implications of these phenomena. Personally, I would take it as a sign from God.”

Lenny rubbed his brow. “Mike, I cannot call a press conference and ask everyone to start praying. I need action and if these...men and lady are willing to offer it, then I don’t know what the hell else to say.”

“Think of it, Lenny.” The mayor raised a brow at Peter’s informal address. “If we’re wrong and we’re making it all up, you can send us to prison and you’ll be the hero who saved his constituents from scammers. But, if we’re right and we stop it - you personally sent the order to save the lives of _millions_ of _registered voters_.”

Peck was now frothing. “With all due respect, you are not seriously considering these men a viable-!”

“There’s also a woman present. Get this prick out of my office, and them whatever they need to fix this shit.”

* * *

Winston thought, for a second, that Peter’s shit-eating grin when he “won” the argument against Peck was a giveaway that he had a request the mayor would almost have to grant up his sleeve. He didn’t think it would be a full police escort, though. That was extravagant, even for Peter.

“Hey, c’mon! We got a world to save!” Peter yelled out the driver’s side window of Ecto-1 as Dana rolled her eyes in the backseat. “Let’s get this train wreck rolling!”

As they began driving towards Dana’s apartment building, Winston waited a beat, before saying softly, “You think they’re okay?”

“Spengs and Ray?”

“Yeah. I mean… I’m worried about them.”

“... I don’t know,” Peter admitted. “They were… at least, Ray wasn’t okay when we left him. I just hope they didn’t die or something.”

Dana cleared her throat to get the boys’ attention. “We don’t know they’re not okay, though,” she offered. “You’ve never dealt with Sumerian sex demons before, have you? You don’t know what kind of effect it has on people to be possessed by one. Maybe they just need to bang and get it out of their systems.”

“You think they’ll be okay when Ray was talking about all that Keymaster shit?” Peter said, maybe a little more snappily than he intended. Dana simply shrugged in response.

“Just saying. We don’t really know.”

As their escort stopped in front of the building and they exited, the trio couldn’t help but immediately look up at the sky. It seemed like damn near the entirety of the top floors of the building were missing, save random walls and bricks surrounded by a shroud of dark clouds. Dana sighed darkly, shoving the sleeves of Ray’s slightly oversized flight suit to her elbows. “So much for my goddamn deposit.”

Peter shook his head as he watched lighting strike through the darkness. “We might be putting in overtime on this one, you guys.”

As if on cue, the Earth beneath them gave way suddenly with a loud crack and rumble. The three of them disappeared with yelps while the crowd behind them screamed as the tremor died away. There was a beat.

“Oh! Hey, they’re alright!”

A dark hand reached up from the ground and gripped a piece of asphalt, revealing Winston as he pulled himself up, then offered a hand to Dana and Peter. The crowd burst back into cheers (and some confused murmurs of “I didn’t know there was a _woman_ Ghostbuster!”), and they waved, albeit rather shaken, to the crowd and they continued toward the building.

Peter pushed open the door of the building, staring at the charred remains of the elevator, then the exposed stairwell next to it, then turning back to Dana and Winston. “When we reach floor thirteen, let me know.” He sighed.

“Is that significant?” Dana asked, furrowing her eyebrows.

“No. That’s when I’ll throw up.” Peter said, regretting his rather wishful decision to carry the extra proton pack.

On the remnants of the roof, Egon - or the Keymaster - panted heavily, releasing the grasp he’d held on Ray’s hips and neck during their animalistic lovemaking as he got up. “Get your rest now. The arrival of Gozer is imminent.” He said proudly, looking down at the slumped, panting form of the Gatekeeper.

The Gatekeeper, after a beat, released his white-knuckled grip on the ledge the two had been defiling. He shakily sat up, covered himself slightly, and turned his attention toward the altar that had manifested atop the building. A few moments of absolute nothingness passed, before the Keymaster let out an inhuman growling noise and murmured, “Where. Is. The Destructor.”

Nearby, the trio of almost-heroes finally - _finally_ \- reached the top of the stairs and arrived at the rooftop, hiding behind a corner that hadn’t been obliterated. “... Well,” Peter began quietly, hoping they wouldn’t be spotted or overheard, “I think they had a good time without us.”

A booming, disembodied voice roared over the rooftop, “The Destructor is not satisfied!”

“What do you mean?” Egon responded. “We united to bring about the end!”

“There is too much emotion present between your vessels,” the voice continued. “I require pure carnal energy! You are unworthy of my presence!”

A bright flash of light blinded Winston, Peter, and Dana for a moment, before it faded away and they caught sight of Egon and Ray, dazed and, judging by the looks on their faces, deeply concerned with whatever predicament they were in.

“Ray?”

“Egon?”

A pause.

“... Why am I wearing a curtain?”

“Why is my fly open?”

“... There’s a lot more than your fly open right now, Spengs.”

Egon paused, looked down, blushed, and quickly tucked himself back into his pants. “Ahem. Sorry about that.” He scratched his head awkwardly, then glanced at Ray. Disheveled, sweaty, barely clothed. “... Did… did we…?”

“...” Ray paused, tense for a second. “I… think we might have? I don’t remember it…”

“Neither do I.” Egon turned to the temple of Gozer. “... Oh. Oh, dear.”

“... What did we do?”

Right about then, Peter half-whispered and half-yelled “Guys! Over here!”

Ray and Egon turned toward his voice, and both instantly relaxed at the sight of their friends. Making sure they were both decent, they fled the scene of the crime and huddled against the wall with Winston, Peter, and Dana. “So… fill me in on what happened,” Ray began, “Last thing I remember is being in Dana’s apartment pinned to an armchair.”

“I suppose my last memory was being cornered by...those.” Egon trailed off slightly, gaze fixed and unmoving behind the heads of Peter, Dana, and Winston. They turned around.

The terror dogs were snarling and roaming about the temple. “What the hell-?”

They were interrupted by the door behind them loudly bashing open. There, dusty and disheveled, was a rather small man in glasses and a rather garish sweatsuit. “Oh, Louis.” Dana whispered.

“Dana! Boy, am I glad to see you! One minute, I’m at my party having a great time, the next I wake up in a pile of furniture!” Louis said, shaking his head. The other five were too stunned by his appearance and obliviousness to the hell before them to warn him. “Boy, the landlord’s gonna shit bricks at the next renters’-!”

The clouds suddenly got darker. The voice returned with a booming vengeance. “That’ll do!” It said with uncharacteristic mocking. The dogs’ heads swiveled and tilted, eyes glowing and mouths dripping.

“Louis, NO!” Dana shed the pack on her shoulder and tried to lunge to shove Louis back into the stairwell, but she only achieved in becoming a part of the heap of demon dog and human that disappeared back into the building.

“Dana!” Peter cried, but it was too late. Another flash blinded them, and they turned away again, and all four had no clue what the hell was coming next.


	10. chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gozer awakens.

Almost as suddenly as the dogs had appeared and overtaken Louis and Dana, they were seated on podiums near the temple’s entrance. Slowly making their way out of the stairwell- Ray and Egon shouldering the spare proton packs and Ray sort of hoping his makeshift toga didn’t go anywhere he didn’t want it to- the four Ghostbusters turned their attention toward the altar.

A tall and feminine-appearing figure manifested from the foggy interior of the temple. “... Who’s that?” Winston asked quietly, leaning to Egon.

A pause. The woman stroked the terror dogs’ heads affectionately, then came ever so slightly closer to the Ghostbusters.

“It’s Gozer,” Egon murmured, half terrified and half awestruck.

“I thought Gozer was a man.”

“It’s whatever it wants to be.”

“... So what do we do about her?” Peter paused. “... It?”

“... Whatever it is,” Winston said, “It’s gonna have to get through us.”

“Goddamn right.”

A pause.

“Go get her, Ray!”

Ray froze when Peter commanded him to ‘go get her’. “Why me?!” he asked, incredulous. “Have you seen me?! Look at me! I look ridiculous!”

Peter just cocked an eyebrow in response. Ray sighed heavily, adjusted the proton pack on his back, and stepped closer to Gozer. “Gozer the Gozerian!” he called.

The deity turned to him and regarded him almost haughtily.

“Good evening!” Ray cleared his throat. “As a duly designated representative of the city, county, and state of New York, I order you to cease any and all supernatural activity and return to your place of origin, or, failing that, the nearest convenient parallel dimension!”

He swore he heard the other three groan behind him before Peter called, “That’ll do it. Thanks very much, Ray.”

Gozer snarled. “You were one of the inefficient vessels. So, inform me - are you a god?”

Ray swallowed, turning back to the other three while uncomfortably tugging at the curtain in a vain attempt to cover his chest. Peter made as subtle of a ‘yes’ gesture as he could.

“Um...no?”

“Then, _DIE!_ ”

Lightning bolts shot from Gozer’s hands and it was all the four of them could do not to go flying into a crowd of screaming spectators below. When the physical and metaphorical shock cleared from their heads, Winston turned to Ray with fury in his eyes.

“Ray, when somebody, especially a demonic somebody, asks you if you’re a god, you say _yes!_ ”

Ray could only give a nod in response. Peter shook his head as they got to their feet, unhooking his proton pack’s wand. “Come on, you guys! This chick is toast! Sticks up!”

“Ready!”

“Let’s show this prehistoric cunt how things are done downtown.”

Aiming their proton wands, the four of them fired directly at Gozer. It yelped in pain and launched itself across the roof, landing on a ledge. “Nimble little minx, huh?” Peter asked with a sarcastic grin.

“Aim for the flat top!” Another shot, and Gozer roared and vanished into thin air. The four men paused and stared silently at where the deity had been.

“... We neutralized it,” Ray said with a grin. “That wasn’t so bad.”

“Complete particle reversal,” Peter added. “Well done, boys.”

“All it takes is the right tools and a little talent!” Winston said as he high-fived Peter. “How about a beer? Round on me!”

Egon’s uncanny silence got their attention. He was always quiet, but never _that_ quiet. “... This actually looks extraordinarily bad,” he murmured, having gotten his hands on a stray PKE meter that had apparently fallen nearby when Dana was possessed by one of the dogs. It buzzed and beeped wildly in his hand, and an ominous breeze began blowing past them.

Then the ground shook, and the Ghostbusters dropped to the ground out of instinct. Below them, they heard the crowd shriek and heard a rock slam into the asphalt before, before the voice of Gozer rang out again.

“Subcreatures!” it roared. “Gozer the Gozerian, Gozer the Destructor, Volguus Zildrohaar, the Traveler has come! Choose and perish!”

“Choose?!” Ray asked as he stood. “Choose what?! We don’t understand!”

“Choose!” Gozer repeated. “Choose the form of the Destructor!”

“O-ho! I get it! Very cute.” Peter got to his feet and brushed himself off. “Whatever we think of is gonna come and kill us. Like if we think of J. Edgar Hoover, he’s gonna come and crush us, alright? Empty your heads. Don’t think of _anything_. We only have one shot at-”

“The form of the Destructor has been chosen!”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, nobody choosed nothin’!” Peter yelled, pointing accusingly at the temple. He turned to Egon. “You choose anything?”

“No!”

“You?!” To Winston.

“My mind’s totally blank.”

“I didn’t choose anything!”

A pause. The other three Ghostbusters slowly turned to Ray.

“... I couldn’t help it,” Ray murmured sheepishly. “It just kinda popped in there.”

“ _What_ popped in there, Ray?”

“I...I tried to-”

“LOOK!”

Egon shouting immediately got the other three’s attention. If it hadn’t, of course, the loud, thudding footsteps would have, not to mention the screaming of the crowd. Around the bend came a large, smiling, chubby humanoid, wearing a sailor suit and apparently composed of confectionery.

“... It’s the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man,” Ray mumbled, somewhere between shock and shame.

“Well...it’s unique.” Peter said, staring in awe at the scene of the marshmallow man clomping down the street.

Their staring off the edge of the building was interrupted by a sniffle and the sound of Ray collapsing onto a piece of rubble nearby. “I tried to think of the most harmless thing. Something I loved, something that’d never hurt us…” His voice trailed into a hopeless sob.

Peter and Winston turned back to the street a little awkwardly, but Egon found that he couldn’t turn away from what was before him. Ray. His Ray. Hurting, sad, and scared. The whole world was ending around them, and Egon could feel his own special hellfire burning in his chest. The sun was gone, and the clouds were black. His...personal _ray_ of sunshine was gone.

He’d been wrong. There was no way he could’ve ever loved Ray more than he did in this moment.

“Ray’s gone bye-bye, Egon. What have you got?” Peter’s voice came from behind him. Egon’s thoughts were outstandingly simple - something had hurt Ray, and he needed to fix it. But it was something that could kill all of them. He felt like his mouth was full of cotton when he got out his next sentence.

“I have a radical idea.” Egon said. “It’s a metaphysical embodiment, so burning it won’t help. We have to reverse the particle flow through the gate. The door swings both ways.”

“How?”

“We have to cross the streams.”

Winston turned around swiftly. “I thought-?”

Egon nodded. “I know. There is a slim chance of survival.”

A pause. Egon rose an eyebrow. Peter looked to Winston, half-hyperventilating. He looked to Ray, who seemed to have come back to the present, but was still misty-eyed. Ray and Egon made eye contact, for just a moment, and Egon’s expression visibly softened.

Right about then, Peter figured out what was going on. “I love this plan!” he yelled, giving Ray a friendly slap upside the back of the head. “I’m excited to be a part of it! Let’s do it!” With that, he took off. Egon and Ray scrambled after him, and Winston hung back for a second, shaking his head and muttering “This job isn’t worth 11,500 a year,” before joining his colleagues. Standing side by side, the Ghostbusters cocked their proton wands and stared Gozer in the eyes one more time. “... It’s been an honor working with you, gentlemen,” Peter said.

Egon and Ray exchanged a glance. “... Raymond?” Egon said quietly.

“... Yeah?”

“... If this is it,” he began, “I want you to know that… that I’m sorry for the way I treated you. I’ve… I’ve been so blind this whole time.” He swallowed hard. “I love you.”

“... I love you, too.” Ray felt tears burn his eyes again. “If we survive this… can we start over?”

“Absolutely.”

Silence. The pair exchanged a tearful smile, as Winston and Peter looked on fondly. “Let’s do this.”

As they said that, Stay-Puft’s hand slammed down onto the wall and he pulled himself up to smile at the Ghostbusters. Hurriedly, the four fired their proton wands. Winston and Peter crossed their streams first, trembling and doing all they could to stay in place and not be knocked back by the sheer force of the streams.

“... I love you, Ray,” Egon murmured one more time. Ray nodded, smiled a little, and stepped closer to Egon as they joined their proton streams with the other two.

The composite beam shot into the temple and as Egon was thrown back by the force of the act, he was pretty content that the last thought he had on his mind was that Ray loved him and he loved Ray too. 

However, it was considerably less romantic moments later, when Egon realized he was, in fact, not dead. He was on his back, he guessed, and his middle aged bones were crying out at him. He was also covered in a pretty thick layer of marshmallow. He hated marshmallows.

He sat up, coughed, maybe even gagged as he tried to wipe the confectionery from his eyes. “Jesus...RAY! Venkman! Winston - ugh!” Egon called out, stumbling and slipping to his feet. He squinted, trying to make sense of the seemingly featureless landscape of melted sugar before him. Then, a groan near his feet. He looked down.

“E-egie?”

Ray’s form rose from the lump at his feet and Egon scrambled to help him up. “Oh, Raymond.”

“Fellas? We fucking lived! Holy shit!”

Peter stumbled from behind a pillar, having missed the deluge but still rubbed with ash and stained with marshmallow. “Winston?”

“I’m dead. We died. My ass _died_. I did _not_ just burn a giant marshmallow man to death.” Winston sat up a ways away, shaking his head and wiping his face. Then their attention was drawn to an even more bizarre sight.

“Hello? Somebody turn the lights on!” Dana’s small neighbor was stumbling around with a stone head covering his vision. And nearby, laying on a pile of smashed terror dog statue, was Dana.

Peter and Winston were quick to tend to the unfortunate terror dog vessels. Egon chose to hang back a moment, though, gently nudging marshmallow off of Ray’s face so he could see. “Oh, god, Ray,” he whispered, “... We made it.”

“We lived.” Ray laughed quietly. The two shared a few awkward, quiet laughs, before throwing their arms around each other in a tight embrace. “... Forget starting over,” Ray whispered to Egon. “We don’t need to start over.”

“What do you mean…?”

Ray smiled a little. “Hey. We survived the apocalypse. Which we caused. I think we’re stuck with each other.”

Egon returned the smile. “.. Yeah. Yeah, we are.” They leaned into each other, and their lips met in a marshmallow-flavored kiss.

“Hey, lovebirds!” Peter called, helping Dana down from the pedestal the statue had been sitting on. “Wanna give us a hand here?”

“In a second,” Ray answered. He and Egon stood, silently, arms around each other for a moment longer. “... I’m sorry about how I acted earlier,”

“Don’t be. If anyone should be sorry, it’s me. You were right. I was… rude, at best.” Egon gently stroked his thumb over Ray’s cheekbone. “I’ve just… been so blind to this. To you.” He pressed a kiss to Ray’s forehead. “My ray of sunshine.”

Ray broke into laughter. “A pun. I like it.”

“It’s true.” Egon smiled tenderly. “... If you want to skip starting over… maybe… we should just… seal the deal, huh?”

“What do you-”

“We go back to the firehouse,” Egon murmured, “Change into halfway decent clothes, and I take you to a jewelry store. We get rings. Matching rings.”

“You proposing to me?”

“I’m trying to.”

“Egon…” Ray broke off into a half sob, half laugh. “Fuck, I don’t wanna cry again, but...yeah. Yeah. You know what, fuck changing, we have to go now. But, first-”

Ray pulled Egon into a kiss again. Peter groaned again from afrar, but all Ray answered with was the bird. 

He really had thought the happiest moment of his life was when he’d managed to track down that first ghost in the library. Or catching the slime ghost in the Sedgewick. But this? Standing on a singed penthouse roof, covered in marshmallow and ash, kissing the love of his life?

It was up there.


	11. epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So once again, the day is saved.

“Where did Egon and Ray run off to, again?” Winston asked, unzipping his flight suit- still covered in marshmallow- and rubbing a hand over his face in exhaustion.

“Dunno. They made out on the roof and then just… kinda disappeared. I dunno where they went but I hope Ray didn’t get rid of that marshmallow all over him. That curtain didn’t cover him all that well.” Peter yawned and stretched. “I need a fuckin’ shower, though, god. If they show up lemme know.” With that, he stalked toward the showers. Ghost energy, he guessed, didn’t leave all that much damage behind in the firehouse. Winston sighed and climbed the stairs, observing the singed walls. Nothing a few hours of elbow grease couldn’t fix, he figured. Removing his sticky flight suit and flopping onto the couch, he closed his eyes for just a bit.

 

He woke up to the door downstairs slamming shut and footsteps up the stairs. Winston sat up and stretched. Egon and Ray, chattering happily, appeared at the top of the staircase. “Oh, hey.” Winston smiled a little. “There you are. We were wondering where you two ran off to.”

“Well…” Ray smiled, exchanging a tender look with Egon. “We… well.” He lifted his left hand. At first, Winston was a bit confused. Then he caught sight of a glittering golden band on Ray’s ring finger.

“... Is that a ring?”

“Mmmhm.”

“... You got engaged?”

“Well… we’re calling it marriage,” Egon interjected, briefly displaying his matching ring, “But if you want to be technical, yes. The jeweller referred to them as promise rings.”

Winston stared at the ring with wide eyes. “...Whoa. You guys just went for it huh?”

“I suppose. Getting married didn’t feel like an especially large step up from surviving the apocalypse.” Egon responded, shrugging.

“Getting fucking _WHAT?_ ”

They hadn’t heard Peter emerge from the showers, and he was now dripping and looking rather shocked. “You two are just figuring out that you actually like each other and now you’re married?”

“Legally, no.” Egon said flatly, but a sharp glance from Ray made him reconsider. “Er, but symbolically and sentimentally, yes.”

Peter scoffed. “Damn!” He yelled. “Congratulations, you two. You owe me payment for a counseling session or two, as I orchestrated this damn thing.” He gestured accusingly with the toothbrush in his hand.

“Check’s in the mail,” Ray said, wrapping his arms around Egon’s waist. “Um… fellas?”

“What?” Winston asked, raising an eyebrow.

“... Would you guys… mind giving us some privacy?”

Winston laughed softly and nodded a little. “Yep. Sure thing.” He stood, walked into the sleeping quarters, and returned clad in clean pants.

“I just got out of the shower,” Peter complained, but then shrugged. “But sure. You two have fun makin’ babies.”

Ray and Egon both laughed softly. “I doubt that,” Egon said softly, slinking an arm around Ray’s waist, “But we will have fun.”

“Aaaand I’m out.” Winston vanished down the stairs. Peter opted to hurriedly dress himself and do the same, calling “Hey, wait for me!” as he did, dripping wet hair leaving a trail of water behind him.

Ray giggled coyly. “Well… we’re alone.”

“That we are.”

That was all that was said- or needed to be said- as Egon gently guided Ray into the bunk room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what a ride lads! curlypeakism and i want to thank all of you that stuck around and read this whole thing. right now we're not sure what our next big endeavor will be, but you know that it'll be here on ao3 whenever it happens! ;D (if you're already hurting for more, you can go read our retelling of ghostbusters 2, or some of our smaller collaborative fics about egon and ray's life after the birth of their first child!)

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Take My Breath Away](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15519513) by [Miso](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miso/pseuds/Miso)




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